


Their Own Piece Of Peace

by pinewood_and_unicorn_hair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death Eater Trials, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Slow Burn, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Trauma, content warning for way in the future, harry and ginny a bit but not really, like really slow burn, like seriously I take forever soz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-12 21:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinewood_and_unicorn_hair/pseuds/pinewood_and_unicorn_hair
Summary: It's two months since The Battle Of Hogwarts. The funerals have been handled the repair efforts are underway. The Burrow has become a safe haven for the survivors of the war. While Harry Potter tries to decide if he wants to go back to school to sit his final year the Death Eater Trials loom ahead. Harry is soon struck by another question when summons comes from the Ministry, calling him to stand witness at Draco Malfoy's trial...What will Harry decide to do and where will his choices lead him and his friends? As all the while the Wizarding World fights to heal from its wounds.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	1. Safe Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Thank you so much for reading my adventure. Obviously all the normal things like none of the characters or world is mine they all belong to the mother of HP. This is in essence a Harry, Draco love story because I'm trash, but It's going to be really long winded guys so bear with me and I promise we will arrive at the juicy bits eventually. My main reason for writing this though is because I've always had a vision in my head about how the Wizarding World recovers after the war and how our friends move on... I want to shear it with you all. This is going to be very plot led but our characters are mostly teens and so we will not be shying from the "horizontal fandango" in any way when the time for that comes (IT"S A LONG WAY OFF). Nor am I going to shy away from the fact that our characters are going to be seriously scarred so be warned. 
> 
> Lastly I need to mention that I am writing this for fun but also as a coping mechanism as I suffer from ill health. This means that sometimes I will write a lot and sometimes you may think I've given up. I HAVE NOT, I am just attempting to get as much doing in when I'm not chained to my bed. 
> 
> Please talk to me and be nice... Lots of love and joy to you P&U x
> 
> Enjoy.

_Harry Potter smiles at the table, Mrs Weasley has made a veritable feast for the celebration and he can’t wait to tuck in. All his favourites are there; roast lamb, golden and steaming, mountains of peas, and a whole dish piled high with corn on the cob dripping in melted butter. He can even smell the syrupy sweetness of a freshly made treacle tart in the oven. His mouth waters in anticipation._

_“Tuck in Harry” Mr Weasley says, beaming at him. _

_He puts everything he can on his plate; piling it so high the peas roll down the sides and almost onto the tablecloth. He picks up his knife and fork, is just about to take a bite when a hand stops him. _

_“Wait its all dry, you need some source, here” Fred hands him a jug. Harry takes it smiling his thanks. Turning back to his meal Harry pours the contents onto his meal. A thick, steaming, red liquid washes over his plate, its sweet metallic scent wafting up to him. _

_“What the!” Harry jumps back, glaring at Fred in outrage. But Fred just smiles back at him._

_"_ _Go on, eat up” Fred says._

_“I cant” he replies, “You’ve ruined it!! What is this anyway?”_

_Fred’s face sobers, “it’s blood Harry,” he says, “its my blood”._

_“WHAT?” Harry asks, nonplussed._

_“It’s my blood, I’m dead. You killed me remember? You killed us all”_

_Harry recoils in horror, he looks around the room. He sees Remus and Tonks staring longingly at a bundle of cloths in Andromeda’s hands. “I’ll never get to hold him now Harry” Remus says to him, “I’ll never get to watch my own son grow up, because I followed you into that Castel. I thought you knew what you were doing. I thought you’d save us.” _

_He stumbles away from the accusing eyes._

_He’s running now, running through a dark wood. Branches catch at his hair and face. He’s being chased, footfall muffled on leafy soil, rapidly gaining on him._

_He trips and falls to the ground. Figures surround him; pale clammy hands reach out of the dark to pull at his clothes. _

_“My brother is all alone because of you” Colin Creevy shouts at him, looking much younger than he had been when he actually died “I practically worshiped you, and look where it got me”_

_“I’d still be alive if you hadn’t been so stupid” Sirius’ haggard face spits out only inches from his own. More voices now, more hands reaching out to him, pulling at him, blaming him for their deaths. _

_And then Dumbledore is there, his blue gaze full of remorse, “If only you’d died sooner Harry. Then you could of saved us all. Oh Harry, Harry, Harry…”_

“Harry… HARRY!!!”

Harry was being shaken roughly, two hands clamped firmly around his shoulders and a warm ruddy face looking down at him full of concern.

He was in Ron’s bedroom at the Burrow. The first rays of dawn’s light just starting to shine through the curtains setting the whole room ablaze, the weak light being transformed by the eye watering orange wallpaper.

“Harry mate! Wake up, your having another nightmare” Ron said with a worried expression as he looked down his long nose at Harry, his hands still holding Harry down.

“I’m up, sorry if I woke you” Harry said pushing himself up in the cot he’d been using, squeezed into the tiny floor space in Ron’s room.

“You didn’t, its ok” Ron replied stretching; his bright red hair clashing so violently with the walls of his room that it was almost hard to look at. “I’m gonna go for a shower. Meet you downstairs before we head off?” he asked. Harry nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes as Ron climbed over him to get out the door, heading for the bathroom.

It had been nearly two months since the battle, two months since the war had ended and Harry had defeated Voldemort. There had been funerals, so many funerals and Harry had gone to them all. He had spoken at many, asked by family members who thought he would know what to say. People always came up and thanked him for coming, thanked him for everything he’d done. Harry knew they meant well but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could of done more, if only he’d been a little stronger, a little faster, if he’d just put all the pieces together just a little quicker he could of stopped them from suffering at all.

There had been so many funerals but some stood out more than others in Harry’s mind. Colin Creevy’s funeral; Dennis Creevy standing at the front of the congregation holding his mothers hand, his head held high as her body shook, racked with harsh, dry sobs. Remus and Tonks being buried under a willow tree on the brightest, warmest day of the year, birds singing in the trees and a gentle breeze carrying the scent of early summer flowers. Harry had nearly fallen apart when Teddy started laughing at a butterfly that landed on Andromeda’s shoulder. A sound so sweet and full of joy, the knowledge that the boy who made it would never know his own Mother. Would grow up with the emptiness of a loss he couldn’t even remember happening. Then there had been Fred’s, just remembering it seemed to suck the life right out of Harry’s chest, there had been no grief on that day, no tears or wishful memories. It had just been numb, a cold, empty, broken day. Filled with a nothingness so pervasive it was a thing all of its own.

The funerals were over now, there were no more memories to be sheared, no more stories to be told only corpses rotting in the dirt and grief stricken families left to carry on the lives that could have been filled with so many others.

Harry rolled over and got up; reaching to the top of the cupboard where he had left his jeans and rummaged through the open duffel bag he was keeping the rest of his clothes in to find a T-shirt. Pulling on an old, very faded red Quidditch jersey Harry headed down stairs.

As Harry made his way down the rickety flight of stairs that made up the backbone of the Burrow, Harry could hear the soft breathing of many people. In truth Harry had never seen the Burrow so full. Not only were all the Weasleys back under its winding rafters, but so too were many other people from the war. Most were other members from Harry’s own School year. Old members of Dumbledore’s Army, Child veterans of a war they had never wished to fight, a macabre inheritance none of them had been prepared to receive.

It had started with just a few, Dean and Seamus coming over for dinner a few days after the battle and falling asleep on the sofa, Seamus not able to stand going back to a home that had been too separate from the war to really understand the terrors he’d gone through and Dean not having anywhere to go at all. Later Neville and Luna had started staying, taking comfort in the presence of others, not feeling safe without large numbers of people around after their experiences over those dark months. Soon more and more people had come trickling in.

The Burrow had become a safe haven for many survivors of the war, a place where they could support each other when it all got too much. Every room in the house now had at least three extra cots in it. It was never the same people for more than a couple of days, a constantly rotating assortment of faces. People would go see their families, try to spend a few nights with them, acting like they weren’t broken or trying to help heal the wounds that had appeared in their own homes. But it was never very long before they appeared back at the Burrow’s dinner table, needing the presence of people who knew what it felt like to have been in a war before you had even finished school.

The only room that remained off limits by unspoken consent was that of Fred and George. Even now, George rarely made his way out of his room. Mrs Weasley had finally forced him out two weeks ago, insisting that he eat with everyone else “It’s not healthy for him to be stuck in that room all day, he needs more than old photographs for company” she had said. So now he ate dinner with them, it hadn’t helped much though; he was still unnaturally quiet, and his eyes were little more than sunken holes in his face. The only people to ever venture into his room were, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan and Charlie, who had decided not to go back to Romania just yet.

Harry’s days were long and hard. He spent most of them helping Mrs Weasley around the house, cleaning and gardening, at this point the garden had been de-gnomed so many times that the gnomes were starting to only come out at night. This had lead to several midnight de-gnoming sessions that had only been put to a stop when a miss thrown gnome had flown straight through Mr and Mrs Weasleys open bedroom window. The senior Weasleys had been woken up rather abruptly when said gnome had landed firmly on their bed and preceded to cause havoc and quite a lot of damage. It had taken nearly two hours to get the gnome back outside and had caused Mrs Weasley to ban all outdoor activities after the sun had gone down.

When he wasn’t doing housework however Harry spent his days at the ministry. He mostly helped by meeting with grieving families, consoling them. Or else he was trying to sort through the mess that had been the blood-purity trials, releasing those unjustly sentenced to Azkaban, finding those who were still in hiding to tell them the danger had passed, or trying to make emends to the families of those who had not been lucky enough to survive the atrocities of Voldemort’s puppet government.

Harry was by far not the only volunteer helping to straighten out the mistakes of that sadistic regime, but he was attempting to use the sway he had gained in the wizarding world to make sure the corruption that had wormed into the ministry in the years before the war was ripped out and wouldn’t find a foot hold again. He’d had several long discussions with Kingsley, who had just been named the official Minister for Magic, about how the Ministry’s downfall had only hastened and enhanced the suffering that had occurred. How more measures should be put into place to stop those in power abusing their influence for their own gain rather than the gain of the government and the country.

Hermione had been a huge help with that, writing many letters to the Minister outlining the floors in the system and giving solutions based on logic and often examples of muggle governmental procedures that would put more checks and counter points into the ministry. In reality it was Hermione’s project, Harry was just using the influence he had to help her make the changes.

He still didn’t like the fact he had so much political power, it felt wrong to him that he could make a casual comment to someone in an office and it could affect the very way laws were carried out or how people’s lives were lived. If he was honest it sacred him and he didn’t want it, but if he could use it to stop people like Umbridge or Fudge from hurting people or to prevent miscarriages of justice like had happened to Sirius from happening again, then he could swallow his discomfort for a while.

The only real peace Harry got was in the brief frenzied games of Quidditch that happened most nights in the Burrows garden just before the sun went down. The games were never particularly well structured as they rarely had enough people to have a full fourteen-person game. Mostly they were merely chasers games of four on four at the most, or else just a mêlée, every person for themselves. The games had started as a distraction from the pressing silence that often arose in the later hours of the day when the housework was finished and peoples minds started to wonder down dark paths. Flying gave everyone a chance to put their feelings aside for a while, caught up in the adrenalin high of the wind in their hair and the turn of their stomachs as the ground dropped away. The games would often start around five-thirty and would continue until Mrs Weasley and whoever was helping her had finished cooking and dinner would start.

Dinner at the post-war Burrow was just as large and chaotic as it always had been, though now many of the meals had a quieter retrospective edge. As the Burrow had filled with more and more mouths to feed it had become increasingly clear that however much Mr and Mrs Weasley enjoyed having the company they were not able to afford to regularly feed up to twenty or more people. It had become a bit of a bone of contention to begin with, as none of the Weasleys would accept any money towards the food; this was until Luna arrived one day with two whole salmon and a large cake she had made. Mrs Weasley had been too polite to refuse the gifts and had cooked the fish up into one of the largest stargazy pies Harry had ever seen. Ever since that day when people came over they regularly bought an offering of food to add to the veritable feasts Mrs Weasley would prepare. The offerings were never expected but they were also never refused and Harry had often seen Mr Weasley’s thankful gaze fall on anyone who offered something towards the nights meal.

When Harry got down stairs the first thing he saw was Seamus and Dean curled up on the sofa fast asleep, a game of chess lay abandoned on the mosaic topped coffee table before them. Blacks were winning, which probably meant they were Seamus’, he was the only person who would still play Ron even if he never did actually win. They were slumped over each other, Seamus’ head resting comfortably on his best friends shoulder. The pair had become entirely inseparable since the end of the war, Seamus had confessed to Harry one rather drunken night a few weeks ago that the time Dean had spent on the run had been some of the Irishman’s most terrifying months. “I didn’t even know where he was yeh know? If he was even alive, I had no way to help him. We kept hearing about the people they found, what the snatchers would do to them and all I could think was, is Dean one of them?” he had slurred to Harry in an intoxicated whisper. It was Seamus who had gone with Dean to see his family straight after the battle only to find a burnt out shell, his entire family still inside. Dean’s eyes often became vacant as he got lost in his own grief and Seamus was often seen talking to him quietly in a corner or else taking him away for long walks in the Devonshire countryside.

Harry tiptoed past them and into the Kitchen to find Mr Weasley and Percy already at the table, two steaming mugs of tea in front of them.

“Good morning Harry, did you sleep well?” Mr Weasley asked looking up from a pile of paper work with a tired smile. Mr Weasley had been given quite a serious promotion after the war; he was now head of the Muggle Liaison Office and was responsible for repairing all the damage the Muggle community had un-knowingly suffered at the hands of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

“Yes thank you Mr Weasley” Harry lied “did you?”

“Oh I’m afraid I spent most of the night going over this report, it’s a real mess you know. Over half the significant Muggle buildings in the London area alone have had some hex or curse placed on them. Most of them are quite minor, like making all the trains in and out of London run exactly twenty-three minutes late, But you never know when your going to run into something really dangerous. I almost lost two men yesterday when an _epilator_tried to drop them twelve stories in a banking tower on Wolf Street”.

“I think you mean _elevator_Mr Weasley”. Harry replied attempting to get the image of two wizards holding desperately onto an epilator as it attempted to violently throw them off, their robes flapping around them as the machine flailed madly.

“No Harry, I’m almost certain it’s an _epilator_, aren’t _elevators_those terrifying metal contraptions Muggle women use to remove unwanted hair? The things Muggles come up with! Why on earth anyone would want to walk around bald all day just for fashion I will never know. And we’ve told you before Harry, please call us Molly and Arthur, all this Mr and Mrs business really does seem far too formal after all” he said all this with a firm smile that made Harry feel both incredibly awkward and rather pleased. Even after so long he still found it hard to believe that the Weasley’s really did think of him as family and wanted him around.

“I’m sorry, I keep forgetting… Arthur” he said with a smile, opting not to tell him he’d gotten the two very different Muggle devices mixed up.

Mr Weasley… Arthur, Harry corrected himself, beamed at him across the table before looking back down at his pile of papers a frown instantly crossing his face as he started reading again.

Harry went over to the large kettle that sat on the arger and started making himself a cup of very strong, very sweet tea. Even after six years of knowing him Mrs Weasley still tutted quietly under her breath every time she watched him heap the five, mounded teaspoons of sugar into his cup. He couldn’t help it he just loved the way that no matter how much stirring you did you were still left with a deliciously syrupy sweet liquid at the bottom of the mug that you almost had to spoon out. Harry was beginning to think he was drinking almost as much tea these days as he was alcohol and since the war that was quite frankly impressive.

“Good morning Harry” Percy said rather pompously as he finally looked up from the paper he was reading, just as Harry started spooning in the first of his many sugars. Percy Weasley was still incredibly pompous and entirely as full of himself as he had always been, but since the final battle there had been a marked difference in him as he attempted to repair the relationship with his family that had broken down in the years running up to the war. He was quicker to make a joke and seemed less likely to judge things as he had when he was younger.

As if to demonstrate this exact point Percy smirked, humour lighting up behind his eyes “Your in the news again this morning, its quite heroic” he said as he raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“Great Merlin, what are they saying now?” Harry asked hopelessly. Ever since the Battle Harry’s fame had only increased, it didn’t seem like a day went by that there wasn’t some mortifying story about Harry splashed across every paper’s front page. The stories ranged from deeply embarrassing speculations as to his relationships with his friends to incredibly invasive biographies of his early life. The most ridiculous so far had been an article that had suggested that Harry and Ron were secretly dating and Ginny and Hermione were merely helping to hide it from the rest of the world.

“Oh its all about how you are single handedly paying for the remembrance statue at Hogwarts, what a great and noble deed it is, the amount of money your putting into the restorations and how Hogwarts would never open again if it wasn’t for your direct influence, its all rather splendid. Although I personally preferred the one with the photo of you and Ron looking at condemns in that Muggle shop, I’ve never seen Mum’s face go quite that shade of beetroot before”.

Harry groaned and closed his eyes as he remembered the embarrassment of that article, Molly hadn’t looked him in the eye for a week and it had been almost impossible to get even within ten feet of Ginny without her mother appearing unexpectedly with some errand or other.

“That’s ridiculous, yes I gave some money to Hogwarts for the repairs, but I’m not the only one who has and I didn’t even give them that much!” it was true Harry had given some money to Hogwarts but it was all old Black money and he thought he might as well use it for some good.

Harry was still getting used to having so much money, whilst he had always known he had a lot more than the Weasleys, a thought that had always left him a little uncomfortable, he had never really comprehended quite how large the sum of money he had really was. Shortly after the Battle, Harry had gone with Hermione to Gringotts to work out what his finances were like. He had been astonished to discover that his parents account alone contained nearly Eighty-thousand Galleons. This on top of several other smaller Potter vaults he’d had no idea he’d inherited from distant relatives and the gigantic sum that was the Black family fortune that Sirius had left him meant that Harry had well over five-million Galleons to his name. What had come as a real shock however was when Hermione had turned to Harry as they were leaving Gringotts to say with a rather meek expression on her face, “Of course Harry one Galleon is worth roughly eighteen pounds. That means you have the equivalent of around ninety-million pounds, can you imagine what you could do with that”. The truth had been that Harry really couldn’t. He had completely panicked when he got back to the Burrow and hadn’t calmed down until Hermione had suggested he donate anonymously to the repair efforts. So he had given large amounts to Hogwarts and the ministry for the repairs.

“You might see it that way Harry, but many people will think it’s an incredibly generous thing to have done.” Percy went on “We’ve not had many truly good people in the public eye for a long time and seeing you being the _good willed savior_is quite frankly a breath of fresh air for most people.” he looked rather serious all of a sudden. “Now I’m off to work, I have a few things I need to get done before the Minister arrives. Coming Dad?” Percy got up and started hunting for his cloak whilst Mr Weasley filed his papers into a rather battered brown leather briefcase.

At that moment Ron came in through the living room door, maroon Weasley jumper clashing spectacularly with his red hair, which was dripping slightly from the shower.

“Mornin’ Dad, Perc, have a good day at work” he called to them as they made their way out the door and past the wards before apparateing away. “So… you ready Harry?” Ron asked looking over at him with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“Yeah, one sec” Harry said downing the rest of his tea, and immediately regretting it as he scolded the roof of his mouth.

Harry sheared Ron’s excitement for the morning’s activity, although he imagined for slightly different reasons. Hermione was finally returning home from Australia with her parents this morning. She had left for the far side of the world two weeks after the final battle to find them, and hopefully restore their memories. Harry and Ron had wanted to go with her, but she had insisted they stay with the Weasleys, reasoning that the family needed their support more than she did then.

It had been a tense time for Hermione as it had taken several weeks to locate her parents, even with the help of the Australian Bureau of Magical Policies. Not only that but extended memory charms were considered highly dangerous as they could become difficult to reverse, especially if the person whose memory had been altered was reticent to regain the knowledge that had been taken. After weeks of hunting and almost a month of work carefully restoring the Grangers memories, they had finally closed their small sweet shop in Sydney and were ready to move back to the UK and resume their old lives. Hermione had written to Harry and Ron a few days ago asking if they could meet her and her parents at the airport. Mr and Mrs Granger had apparently not been thrilled that their daughter had written herself out of their lives without their consent and there had been a strain in the family’s relationship because of it. Hermione wanted Ron and Harry to be there to help her explain to her parents exactly why she had felt she had to do it; she thought they might be able to hear it better if it came from someone other than herself.

“Ok” Harry said, putting the cup in the sink to be washed up. “Lets go”.

The two friends made their way out of the front door and down the crooked garden path made of large, knobbly stone slabs with grass and dandelions poking out between them. Through the wooden gate with it’s peeling pale blue paint, until they were standing just outside the Weasley homes wards. They took one look at each other before turning sharply on the spot, disapparating.


	2. The Grangers Return

Harry and Ron appeared behind a large notice board advertising a new Children’s book by an up and coming author. They were standing just outside Heathrow airport’s main entrance. Ron looked around in wide-eyed amazement at the gigantic building before them. He wore an expression of shocked awe that only grew as they entered the cavernous space. Grey paneled walls rose up to high metallic arches and large glass windows. The number of Muggles milling about was quite a shock to Harry after the months he had spent solely in the company of wizards. Not to mention the fact he was still getting used to large crowds after his time on the run with only his two best friends for company.

“Fucking hell!” Ron nearly shouted almost falling to the floor as a jumbo jet flew only a hundred feet or so over the glass ceiling. “That things almost as big as a full grown Ridgeback Harry” he said looking rather alarmed.

“Yeah” Harry said with a smile “They can fit over four-hundred people in the big ones. The Dursley’s went on one when they had a holiday to Spain. I was about nine I think”. He didn’t mention that the Dursley’s had actually left him with Mrs Figg for those two weeks and the only reason he knew the fact at all was because Dudley had rubbed it in his face for a whole four weeks after they came back. From the frown Ron gave him he doubted he had missed the insinuation.

Harry still hadn’t told Ron and Hermione the extent of his abuse at the hands of the Dursleys and he didn’t think he ever would, but ever since Ron had found Harry locked in his room with bars on his windows just before the start of second year Ron had had suspicions about how deep their neglect of Harry really went. He never asked, but it was obvious whenever Harry’s biological family came up that he was harboring a lot of anger towards his best friends kin.

Following the Directions on a large flashing sign Harry and Ron made their way to the Arrivals area, Hermione’s Flight should be disembarking now, which only gave them a few minutes to find the right door and meet her and her parents.

Harry made a beeline for the large yellow number three sign the message board had instructed them to go to, Ron trailing along behind him still looking around with a puzzled expression plastered across his freckled face.

Standing outside the arrivals door waiting for Hermione, Ron looked around with a small frown creasing his forehead. “Harry?” he asked, staring openly at a teenage girl only a year or two younger than the two boys. “Harry? Why are half the Muggle kids wearing earmuffs? It’s the middle of summer!”

Harry looked around in confusion for a second totally at a loss as to what Ron could be on about. But then he saw it and he had to stifle a laugh at how obvious it was, of course Ron had thought that the clunky padded headwear a good sized portion of the younger Muggle travelers were wearing were earmuffs. “Those are head-phones Ron, they plug into a Walkman, a kind of mechanical box you can play music on whilst you travel. Muggles use them for entertainment”.

“Have they never heard of reading?” Ron asked sounding worryingly serious, as if he might have to stride straight up to the next Muggle he saw and ask if they were actually literate.

“Of course they have, it’s just that you’re not always in a situation you can carry a book around in. Besides it’s not surprising that they’re often more interested in music. From what I’ve seen Muggle music is a lot more varied and there are lot more bands to choose from than in the Wizarding world.” Harry replied with a touch of humour, remembering Celestina Warbeck’s latest single which was a hideously soppy love song titled _‘Ode to Harry Potter’ _and contained such lyrics as _‘I’ve swallowed so much love, my hair grows red’_and _‘My friends say you’re so brave, and I know that you will see that we were meant to be’. _Ginny and Seamus had taken to singing lines from it around the Burrow any time things started getting too serious, much to Harry’s chagrin.

“Na mate, we’ve got The Weird Sisters, can’t beat a classic” Ron said with certainty.

Harry just smiled, deciding he would have to introduce Ron to the rather impressive record collection he’d found hidden under the floorboards in Sirius’ old room at Grimmauld Place.

Just then three bushy headed figures emerged through arrivals door number three, cutting any discussions about the merits of Muggle verses Wizard composition off in its tracks.

Hermione looked even more tired than she had before leaving just after the war. Two dark purple circles bruised the skin under her eyes and it looked like she had lost weight, which was nothing short of alarming considering the famished state the trio had been in by the final confrontation in May. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun on top of her head and she had a large blue Muggle style backpack on. Next to her walked the two older Grangers. Mr Granger was a tall rangy man with a balding head and that type of frameless glasses that Harry new he would break the second he bought a pair. He was wearing knee length tan shorts and a faded check shirt, he always gave the impression he was the kind of man to go bird watching on Sunday afternoons. Mrs Granger was a small shy looking woman, she sheared Hermione’s dark eyes and bushy mane of brown hair though she kept hers cut much shorter than her daughter’s. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen her not wearing at least one cardigan, normally the over sized kind with a large shall collar and big patch pockets. She was the kind of person you felt needed to be protected, a trait that stood in strong contrast to her daughters self-assured manner. All three Grangers bore the same strained expression on their faces as they entered the main expanse of the airport through the arrivals board; it was a look that did not bode well for the rest of the morning’s interactions.

Hermione’s expression shifted to a relieved smile as soon as her eyes landed on the two boys. Giving a small wave she murmured something to her parents and they started to head over.

“Here goes nothing,” Ron whispered to Harry through the corner of his mouth, trying and failing to hide his nerves at seeing Hermione again. Harry could understand Ron’s anxiety, whilst the two had left things in a very strong place before she left to find her parents, they hadn’t had much time to actually find their feet as a couple before they were separated again. This had left Ron fretting about how they would get on once they were back in the same hemisphere. These were not a set of fears Harry sheared; he had never seen two people he felt fitted each other more. Yes they pecked and quarreled, but they even seemed to do that together. Harry had secretly suspected that the two harbored more than a school kid crush for each other for a couple of years now and he was just glad that they had finally realized the depth of their feelings. Seeing the way the two had supported each other in the first days after the final battle had given Harry hope for the future, a hope he had sorely needed at the time and quite often still did.

Any fears Ron may have had that their blossoming romance had wilted in the weeks since they had seen each other last were quickly put to rest when Hermione quite literally flung herself at him the second they were within reaching distance. Planting a firm kiss on his lips her arms wrapping around him with such force Ron actually had to take a couple of steps to balance them again. The two separated quickly, Ron sending a sheepish glance at Hermione’s parents, who were giving the couple a rather surprised look at the exuberant show of affection. Hermione didn’t even glance at them, instead swooping Harry into an equally bone crushing yet markedly less passionate hug, before stepping back to run a critical gaze over them both.

“Oh Ron! Harry! How are you both? How is everyone doing? How is Dean? It’s just awful I didn’t know what to do when I heard what had happened, he must be distraught.” She said all in one giant rush. Harry had almost forgotten how fast she could speak when she was concerned about something or someone.

“Yeah, we’re doing ok Mione, everyone’s doing as well as can be expected” Ron said rubbing the back of his neck, his ears now red enough to blend into his hairline.

“Err… Hi Mr and Mrs Granger, how are you both?” Ron asked the two senior Grangers whilst simultaneously trying to shrink into his jumper.

“Oh sorry, how silly of me!” Hermione said sounding rather strained all of a sudden. “Mum, Dad, You remember Ron and Harry don’t you?”

Mr Granger gave them both a small nod. “It’s good to see you both again boys, I’m glad we’ve been given the chance.” He said rather gruffly, the note of accusation in his voice wasn’t hard to miss.

“Bill” Mrs Granger warned, laying a hand on her husbands arm and avoiding looking at the way her daughter blanched at her father’s jibe. “You’ve both grown a lot since we last saw you, although that has to be a couple of years now doesn’t it?” she said in a soft sweet sounding voice. Her eyes lingered a little longer on Ron than they had on Harry as she gave them a slightly nervous smile.

“So what happens now?” Mr Granger asked the group at large. “Hermione said something about needing to take some protective measures on the way home? I hope those radicals we were told about are gone?”

“You don’t have to worry about that Mr Granger” Harry said stepping forward at last. “The Aurors just need to run some standard tests to make sure everything’s ok for you to go back to, we can explain on the way. There should be a car waiting for us by now, if you’d like to follow me”. Harry had got rather good at talking groups of people through situations like this during the last few weeks of working with the ministry and slipped into the roll of organizing easily. Thankful for a part to play that gave him a way around the obvious tension that currently existed between Hermione and her parents, it hadn’t escaped his notice that neither Granger parent had yet to actually address their daughter directly. From the sideways glance Ron gave him as they walked towards the exit, Harry wasn’t the only one to notice the divide.

* * *

A black Ministry car was waiting for them just outside the airports entrance as they exited the building.

Once inside they found they all had plenty of room to stretch out without getting in anyone else’s space. If the Grangers found this notable in any way they made no sign of it other than Mrs Granger slightly raising her eyebrows when both Mr Granger and Ron sat opposite each other without even brushing toes, which was no small thing considering that both men were well over six feet tall.

“So” Mr Granger said as they pulled out of the airports car park and onto the main road. “What are these tests you need to run my house? And why am I not allowed back into my own home before they have been completed.”

Harry realized rather quickly that this was not going to be an easy journey. He took a breath, bracing himself for a long interrogation before he opened his mouth.

“Well Mr Granger the threat from the radical group known as the Death Eaters has indeed passed and it’s now safe for those in danger, such as yourselves, to return to normal life. But we have no idea what, if any, curses were placed on your residence or the surrounding area during the war. These could be anything from simple tracking spells to highly lethal hexes that could be triggered by the presence of certain people. As we speak Ministry Aurours”

“That’s the Wizard Police” Hermione chipped in quietly

“Yes Magical Law Enforcement are checking your home and area for anything untoward. The final step will be when we arrive, to check to see if any of us might trigger something that has been hidden by conventional scrying methods”.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand” Mrs Granger said, looking around the car in confusion. “Why would these Death Eaters want to attack us, we have nothing really to do with your world other than Hermione. The closest we’ve come to magic is buying schoolbooks in Diagon Ally at the start of each year, what could we have that would be so important to them?”

Harry looked at Hermione in shock. Had she never explained about the Death Eaters obsession with blood purity or her role in the war?

Hermione’s lips thinned ever so slightly and she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Harry took a second to digest this; Hermione obviously didn’t want her parents to know the intricacies of the war and that was her choice, but Harry now had to come up with something to say that would appease the Grangers curiosity yet not cross the line his friend wanted hidden. Not to mention Harry felt decidedly uncomfortable lying to these people he barely knew about the dangers their daughter had put herself through, mostly for his own sake, during the war. He decided to go for the bones of the truth and hope he was making the right decision.

“Hermione played a huge roll in the war effort, quite frankly without her and Ron here” Harry gestured to his closest friend “we wouldn’t of won. That on top of her friendship with me put her in a very dangerous position. The Death Eaters would of been keeping an eye on your house incase any of us showed up looking for help, the spells we are looking for would of most likely of been meant for one of us.” Harry finished looking at the two Granger parents who had gone an ashen shade of grey. Harry looked quickly at Hermione and realized too late that he may have said entirely the wrong thing. His friend’s eyes were glistening with tears as she looked at her Mum and Dad sitting on the seat next to her.

“Our daughter didn’t tell us she had a large part in it all, only that it wasn’t safe and that they were hunting people like her. People with magic born to those without any like us.” Mr Granger said stiffly not looking at Hermione as he said this.

“What Hermione said was true Mr Granger” Ron piped up looking at his girlfriend with a worried expression. “The Death Eaters were a bunch of blood puritanical madmen, honest.” Hermione gave a small huff of humourless laughter, looking at Ron with a weak smile before catching Harry’s eyes.

Harry mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” too her as the Grangers looked out of the window. “Its ok” she mouthed back just as quietly and Harry knew she didn’t blame him.

The rest of the car journey was completed in silence, Mr Granger looking stonily out of the window whilst Mrs Granger became inordinately interested in a small hole that had formed in the pocket of her cardigan. This left the three friends to eye each other with worried glances as they attempted to silently communicate feelings of comfort and companionship.

* * *

Ten minutes later the car pulled to a stop and turned off its engine.

“We can’t be there yet,” Mrs Granger said looking up in surprise. “It’s nearly an hours drive from Heathrow to our house and that’s if there’s no traffic. We’ve hardly been on the road for twenty minutes.”

“Magical transport doesn’t always play by the same rules as everyone else” Harry said to her. Smiling as he remembered his first experience on the Knight Bus and how it had seemingly jumped around the UK at random, without any real regard for geography at all.

They all got out of the car into the bright July morning. Looking around Harry saw a very pretty street with a green at one end and lots of trees lining each side of the road. Old-fashioned lampposts dotted the pavement and there were several shiny cars parked on the road next to what was unmistakably an old village pub. It was definitely a Muggle road in a Muggle area, but it didn’t have the uptight, boring feel Harry had come to expect from Muggle communities. Then again Harry thought, most of what he considered ‘Muggle’ was actually just ‘Dursley’ and ‘Privet Drive’, there were many more types of Muggles out there just like there were many types of Wizards.

Turning around Harry saw a medium sized house. It had pale grey stone walls, a short, wrought iron fence and flower baskets hanging from the upstairs windows. It would be almost picture perfect if it weren’t for the obvious months of neglect. The flowers in the hanging baskets had all died, giving way to over grown weeds and the paint on the front door had started to peel off in a few places. The over all effect was one of a once loved property left to be forgotten, it was quite sad to look at really.

It was only as Harry turned his head away from the scene that he noticed the two people in what appeared to be Aurors robes that had been altered into an approximation of Muggle street wear. Even by Wizarding standards this were an appalling effort. The smaller of the two; a man with mousey hair that looked like a balloon was constantly rubbing at it, and a short black goatee that didn’t match the rest of him at all was wearing what looked like a Victorian swimming costume with a suit jacket and jodhpurs. Whilst the only alteration the tall beefy woman, with tightly curling grey hair, standing next to him seemed to of made was to add a horizontal pinstripe to her cloak.

Noticing the new arrivals the two blatantly obvious Magicians turned and started walking straight for the small group who had just vacated the sleek black vehicle behind them.

“Mr Potter, My name is Auror Ramshorn. This is Auror Gobhar. We’ve completed all the preliminary sweeps of the residence and area. Everything seems to be in order, we’ve found nothing more than a decaying tracking charm, which we have since neutralized. All that is now left is to perform the presence specific tests and everything should be ready to go.” The tall pinstriped woman reeled off in a very business like manner as soon as she was in talking distance.

“Right, yes, er… thanks” Harry said feeling very awkward. He still wasn’t used to experienced professionals treating him like their equal or even in some cases superior. It was a trait that had been popping up around the ministry alarmingly often in the last few weeks.

“This is Mr and Mrs Granger” Harry said quickly turning to the couple in an attempt to get the attention away from himself. “This is their home. And I’m sure you recognize Ron and Hermione.”

“Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, an honor to meet you.” Ramshorn said to the pair, giving them both a brisk nod that was silently returned by the young couple.

Finally the Auror turned to Mr and Mrs Granger, looking them over with a keen eye. “Mr and Mrs Granger, hello. I’m sure Mr Potter has informed you as to why we are here today. It’s nothing more than a few security measures, to ensure your safety you understand. You may be rest assured that once these last tests have been completed, you will be able to go home in the knowledge that you will both be as safe as two lambs on a wool farm.”

“And what exactly are these tests may I ask?” Mr Granger asked looking seriously at the women. “I hope they won’t take long, I don’t want to have to book into a hotel for the night if I can avoid it, I’ve spent too long away from my own bed already” He glanced quickly in Hermione’s direction before looking back at Ramshorn. It was only a slight flicker of the eyes, but his implication had been implicit. Ron slid his hand into Hermione’s giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes if we all work together I’m sure, here let me explain” said Gobhar, stepping forward for the first time he had a high pitched voice and spoke incredibly quickly almost running his words together in his effort to get them all out.

“Mr Potter may I demonstrate with you? It’s an honor by the way, truly an honor to meet you, to meet all of you of course. The three most famous people in the country! My wife is going to have a fit when she finds out what my assignment was today. I can’t thank you enough really I can’t, my wife’s Muggle born and we spent most of the last year on the run. You’d know all about that though I’m sure, we’ve all heard the stories, remarkable, truly remarkable!”

“Gobhar” Ramshorn admonished.

“Right yes, sorry, I do let my mouth run away with me at times, my wife’s constantly telling me to think before I open it, but there you have it” Harry couldn’t quite believe anyone could actually talk that fast, he was having trouble keeping up with what the man was saying.

“Ok so the main problem we’re facing is that we have no idea what kind of curses, if any, have been placed on the property. We haven’t found any but there is still a chance some have been hidden from normal methods of detection. Now curses of that kind are usually attuned to activate only in the presence of certain people and as the five of you are the most likely to be the targets of the spells in question, we have to check to make sure your not going to set something off the second you enter the building. Obviously, we can’t have the Golden Trio or their family walking straight into a potentially lethal trap now can we! The paperwork for exploding the savior of the Wizarding world would be quite lengthy let me tell you!” The man let out a short breathy laugh that was so forced it hurt to listen to. “So that is where this comes in.”

From within the pocket of his jodhpurs Gobhar pulled a large glass object that closely resembled the Remembrall Neville had used in first year, only with two large golden rings around the outside and a bright purple liquid held within.

“This is a Simularéé, basically it acts as a giant biological lie. We simply pair it to a person and it mimics their physical and astral signature. All we then have to do is send it into the house and if it comes out un-damaged and not tampered with at all the house is safe for that person.” Gobhar finished beaming around at the group, obviously very pleased with himself for explaining such a piece of magical machinery so well in the presence of two Muggles.

Mr and Mrs Granger on the other hand did not look nearly as impressed, if anything Mr Granger looked more dubious than when they had first arrived and Mrs Grangers face hadn’t been quit the right shade of pink since the small Wizard had mentioned getting blown up.

“How exactly do you _pair _it to us?” Mr Granger asked putting an arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders.

“Ah well let me show you” Gobhar said excitedly. “Mr Potter if you would step this way.” Harry took a couple of steps forwards until he was standing in front on the wiry little man. “Now, please take the Simularéé in your wand hand. Thank you. Ok, so to begin with the Simularéé will need a sample of your anatomy; a hair should do the trick. Just pluck one out and place it in the hatch at the top.” Harry pulled a hair from his head and placed in the whole in the top of the globe as Gobhar had indicated before closing the lid with a small ‘click’.

As soon as his hair touched the purple potion inside the sphere it gave a shudder and turned bright green. It was, Harry noted, the exact shade the pollyjuice potion had turned the night the Order had come to take him away from Privet Drive for the last time. The night George had lost his ear and Moody and Hedwig had been killed. Closing his eyes Harry took in a sharp breath pushing down those painful memories, it wouldn’t do to start having a panic attack now in the middle of the street. When he opened them again he saw Ron and Hermione looking at him, the expression on their faces told him quite plainly that they were remembering the same fateful night.

“Alright” Gobhar said bringing Harry out of his thoughts with a start “Now when I say, I need you to tell the Simularéé your full name. Please speak clearly and don’t use any abbreviations or nick names or else this won’t work.”

The Auror took out his wand and pointed it at the magical device. “Alright, go” he instructed.

“Harry James Potter” Harry intoned, watching the ball intently.

At first he didn’t think anything had happened. But then the green liquid in the globe started to glow, brighter and brighter until it was practically pulsing with light. It rose into the air an inch or so above Harry’s hand and the two golden rings started to spin erratically around it. For the briefest moment Harry had the strangest feeling as he stared at the floating object, it felt almost as if he was looking into a mirror. The feeling only lasted a second however as the next thing he knew the ball had sped off towards the house. It paused for a second as the front door opened of its own accord, allowing it in, and then it was gone.

They waited. Several tense minutes went by as the Simularéé presumably went through every room in Hermione’s childhood home. They all listened in silence, straining to hear the tell tail sounds of a jinx or hex springing into action. Nothing. Not a sound came from the house. Finally Ramshorn let out an audible sigh and turned to Harry. She was about to open her mouth to say something when the front door banged open once more causing the iron haired Auror to visibly jump; she gave the Simularéé a rather accusatory look for shocking her.

Gobhar jumped at the globe as it left the building, snatching it straight out of the air. He examined it, turning it this way and that, his nose practically pressed up to the glass. After a few seconds he looked up beaming at the small group gathered curiously around him.

“Everything seems completely fine, the Simularéé hasn’t found anything more dangerous than some of that Weasley nougat that gives you a nose bleed.” He said with incredible satisfaction.

Harry and Ron gave Hermione a slightly shocked look at the idea that she would be hiding any skiving snack boxes in her bedroom.

“I confiscated them off a fourth year, on the train home at the end of sixth year. I didn’t know what to do with them, so I left them here.” She said with a slightly bossy tone to her voice, although Harry couldn’t help noticing her cheeks had gone just a tiny bit pinker than usual and she was definitely not making eye contact with anyone.

"Alright then, well lets get on with this. Miss Granger if you would like to go next?” said Ramshorn.

Hermione stepped up to Gobhar taking the Simularéé from him whilst plucking a long curly brown hair from her head. After Hermione went Ron and then Mr and Mrs Granger respectively.

Finally about half an hour later Mrs Grangers rather pleasant sugar-plumb pink Simularéé came flying out the front door of the Grangers home and Gobhar pronounced the house safe to enter.

“Well there you go Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, thank you for your understanding, the ministry apologizes for the time we’ve taken out of your day, especially as I’m sure you’d rather be spending it catching up with your daughter. Now we really must be off. Mr Potter it’s been an honor” Ramshorn said all this in the same brisk manner she had held throughout the rest of the morning, but when she turned to Harry there was a light shining in her eyes that gave away just how much she meant her last statement.

“Yes, yes, it all been so very exciting to meet you all, I can’t wait until my Milly hears about it. Once again thank you to all three of you, you have no idea how much your heroics mean to so many, they wont be forgotten, I can promise you that! They most definitely will not!”

With that the two Aurors turned on the spot, vanishing with a couple of very gentle pops.

* * *

Hermione put her rucksack down in the centre of the Grangers living room and stepped back. The house was almost bare; obviously her parents had taken most of their belongings with them when they had emigrated to Austrailia. The only things left were a few pictures on the walls. Most contained family photos left to gather dust after her parents packed to leave, unable to see or even remember that the photos existed.

“Stand back everyone, I don’t know where everything will go.” Hermione said giving everyone a chance to back off from the bag. Pulling out her wand Hermione pointed it at the rucksack in the centre of the room she muttered a quiet _“Reditus”._

With a tiny flick of her wrist the top of the bag sprung open. Harry watched as what must have been everything the Grangers owned poured out of the bag. Pots and pans flew out one at a time, heading straight for the kitchen. Bedding and mattresses headed up the stairs and out of sight, followed shortly after by a couple of bedframes and several very delicate looking Tiffany lamps. Ron was forced to dive out of the way of a dining table making it’s way through to the conservatory. A line of chairs following it like ducklings following their mother to the nearest pond. Last were a sofa and matching chair that squeezed out of the impossibly small hole in the top of the bag. Settling themselves down on the red paisley patterned carpet with a gentle thump.

Only ninety seconds or so after the whole madness had started it was over, the room fell quiet again and Harry found himself looking round a fully furnished house.

Hermione’s home was far tidier than the Burrow ever was, but it did not shear the spartan, clinical feeling that presided over Privet Drive. Instead a comfortable quiet atmosphere seemed to pervade the rooms. Books seemed to line nearly every wall and soft lamps lit up antique furniture. The most notable difference from any other Muggle home Harry had ever seen was the apparent lack of a television. Harry didn’t think he’d ever met anyone that had grown up in the Muggle world who didn’t own one, but now he came to think of it, not once could he recall Hermione ever mentioning a favourite TV program. The only thing she ever really talked about enjoying outside of spending time with friends was books.

“Well” said Hermione, peering into the bottom of the now empty bag. “I think that’s everything back where it should be.”

She turned sharply towards the door “Ok well if that’s everything, Ron, Harry and I are expected at the Burrow”. Hermione started walking very quickly towards the door obviously eager to leave in a hurry.

“WAIT!” Mr Granger shouted. All three teens stoped dead in their tracks.

There was silence for a few moments before Mr Granger said again in a much calmer voice “wait”.

“Yes?” Hermione said, whipping round to look at her farther. If it weren’t for how her hands shook before she clenched them into fists Harry would have had a hard time seeing just how scared Hermione really was.

“Please Hermione” Mr Granger said in a very quiet voice. “Please tell us why you’ve done this.

“I can’t” Hermione said her voice a dry rasping sound barely audible at all.

“You made us think we wanted to move to another country. You ripped yourself out of our lives and made us forget who we are. Why? And don’t give us the half truths and platitudes you have obviously been feeding us since you restored our memories. We deserve to know the truth, we deserve that much” he was looking directly at his daughter now. It was the first time he’d done that all day; as far as Harry could tell. Pain and betrayal filled his eyes. It was almost too much to look at.

Mrs Granger was crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks and into the collar of her cardigan.

Ron took a step towards Hermione. Attempting to comfort her he placed a hand around her shoulders.

“I can’t tell you,” Hermione said again, looking imploringly at her parents. “You wouldn’t understand.” Pushing Ron’s hand away she took a step towards them.

“THEN LEAVE” Mrs Granger’s screech came from nowhere, making Hermione recoil in horror. “If you don’t have the decency to treat us like human beings. If we don’t have the right to our own freedoms to choose what we can and cannot know about our own daughter. Leave and do not come back, because I for one don’t want a daughter who can’t find it within herself to respect us” Harry was horrified, gone was the quiet, sweet voiced women he had come to recognize as Hermione’s mother. The woman who stood shaking with rage before them spat cold poisonous words like a viper ready to attack. There was no doubting her. She meant every word she said, there were no empty threats or cold manipulations going on here. She was completely, deadly serious.

Hermione was crying now, tears covering her cheeks in a near perfect mirror of her mother, it would have been an uncanny resemblance if it weren’t such a dreadful sight.

“Mum, please. I can’t” Hermione wept.

A cold hard edge appeared in Mrs Granger’s eyes. “Then go”. It was such a quiet phrase, but everyone in the room heard it as if it had been shouted in their face.

Hermione stood there for a second, her lower lip trembling. Then she bowed her head and turned to leave.

“STOP” The cry sounded so desperate it took Harry a second to realize it had been he who had uttered it.

He looked around; everyone was staring at him now. The looks ranged from pure shock on the faces of Ron and Hermione to down right venom on from Mrs Granger.

“Stop” he said again. “I can’t let you do this Hermione. If they have to know… I’m sorry, but if you’re not going to tell them… I will.”

“Harry, no!” Hermione said. “I don’t want them to! What happened… Please it will only scare them.”

“I’m sorry Hermione, I grew up without my parents, I know what its like to live without them and I can’t watch you throw yours away.”

Hermione stared at him. After a second she nodded, her eyes never loosing his. Harry didn’t know if it was because he almost never bought his parents up in this way, or if it was simply that she trusted him. But he had to try.

“Alright, Please can we sit down?” he asked gesturing towards the sofa and seats.

Mr and Mrs Granger sheared a quick look before nodding and taking the two chairs facing the garden.

Harry, Ron and Hermione took the sofa opposite, sitting close together as they had so often over the last two years. Drawing strength from each other’s presence.

“Ok” Harry said. “Why don’t we start with what you know and work out from there?” he asked looking between the two older Grangers, hoping one of them would offer him a good place to start.

“Well” said Mr Granger, leaning forward. “We know that there was a group of radical terrorists. That they were hunting anyone with magic who wasn’t born with magical parents, and we know that there was some kind of war. I think we can say we know our daughter hasn’t told us the whole story and that she played a much bigger part in that war than we had known before this morning. What we don’t know is what that role was, who she was fighting and how she came to be so involved in what was obviously some very dangerous situations.” He finished this by giving Hermione a very hard look before sitting back again.

Harry glanced at Hermione. She really didn’t want her parents to know what she had gone through. He took a second to figure out what to say, then looked at Hermione’s Parents and started speaking.

“So you are right there was a radical group called the Death Eaters, they were lead by a very powerful Dark Wizard named Lord Voldemort. Their mission statement was to wipe out anyone with magic who wasn’t born with at least one magical family member. Not only that, they considered themselves superior to all other life on the planet whether that was magical or not. I believe they would’ve continued fighting until they ruled the world and quite probably until they were the only ones left. They considered anything that didn’t have magic to be filthy and worthy of destruction. The war started in an attempt to stop them, but mostly it was just a fight to survive.”

Harry paused to look at Hermione, checking that he hadn’t said to much.

“As for Hermione’s involvement, I’m afraid that has a lot to do with me Mr and Mrs Granger. You see there was a prophecy that said that only I could kill Lord Voldemort and stop the war, unfortunately Voldemort had used Dark magic to make himself very hard to kill and there were a number of dark artifacts I needed to destroy in order to finally defeat him. I will not lie to you. What I had to do was very dangerous. Quite frankly if I’d tried to do it alone, as I’d intended to, I would be dead and Voldemort would still be in power. However being my best friends and knowing what was at stake, both Ron and Hermione decided to help me. I know I shouldn’t of let them come with me and I’m truly sorry for putting your daughter in danger.”

“Not that we’d of given you any bloody choice mate, you needed us. Of course we were there” Ron said sounding very serious,

“Ron’s right Harry, we would never of let you go and do the things we had to last year alone. It was our own choice and you need to stop taking the responsibility for it”. The last sentence Hermione directed right at her parents. It seemed that she wasn’t going to allow him to take responsibility for this either.

“Is that what the scar on your arm means Hermione?” Hermione’s mother said looking at her, a crease forming between her dark brows. “I saw it before we got on the plane, ‘Mudblood’ it’s a slur about having a Muggle family isn’t it?”

Mr Granger’s lips thinned as he watch Hermione put her hand over her right arm, covering the scar left by Bellatrix after their imprisonment at Malfoy Manor.

“Thank you for explaining to us what was going on last year Harry” Mr Granger said. “At least we know what was happening in the country and what this whole war business was about. It hasn’t escaped me however that you have not really told us what you and my daughter were up to whilst you were looking for these _Artifacts_. You say that it was dangerous and quite frankly that is obvious from the multitude of scars I can count on all three of you from here. I would like to know why three teenagers took it upon themselves to rid the country of this _madman _as Ron put it earlier. And what sort of dangers my daughter has gone through. Especially that one or more of them left her feeling there was no other course of action but to remove herself from our memory entirely. Please Hermione, it’s becoming blatantly clear that you have not been telling us about large parts of your life for several years now, and I think we deserve to know why.”

Harry looked over at Hermione, her eyes were still glistening, but the tears were no longer flowing down her face in great rivers. He was still worried that he’d said too much or the wrong thing, but at least she and her parents were talking now. They weren’t ready to walk away from each other anymore. Hermione looked back at Harry and gave him a small smile.

“Your right” she sniffed, taking Ron’s hand in hers and sparing him a quick glance before turning her gaze back on her parents. You deserve to know what’s happened.”

“I started lying to you at the end of fourth year…” Hermione said. She told them about how Voldemort had returned and why. She explained that she had kept it secret because she’d thought if her parents had known, they might of pulled her from Hogwarts in an attempt to keep her safe. How the thought of being banned from the world she loved and the people she cared for had kept her awake at night. How she had realized that if they had, it would of all been for naught anyway. The death eaters would still come for people like her and she wouldn’t be able to hide or defend herself on a fouth year’s education.

She told them about fifth year. About Dumbledore’s Army and what really happened in the Department of Mysteries. How it had been there, as she and her friends fought for their lives, that she had realized Voldemort and his followers would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, even if that meant killing her or her family. That had been when she had decided she couldn’t risk telling her parents about the war.

She told them about sixth year and how they had discovered Horcruxes. She told them of the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, of Dumbledor’s death and Snapes betrayal. Then she told them of how she had decided she needed to protect them. Until Voldemort had been defeated she would never be safe and neither would they.

She spoke of how she’d removed their memories; how she knew they’d never of left if they’d known what was happening. The only way to keep both them and herself safe had been for them to be somewhere far away where they couldn’t be used against her. She told them of Bill and Fleur’s wedding and their hiding in Grimmauld Place. Of how they’d discovered the locket was at the Ministry and how they’d broken in. How they had been discovered and spent the next months on the run. She glossed over how Ron had left them and although she mentioned going to Godric’s Hollow and what had happened there. She avoided telling her parents quite how close she and Harry had come to dying. She did tell them about Malfoy Manor, but opted to refer to her torture as “I was interrogated by Bellatrix Lestrange, one of Voldemort’s highest ranking Generals”. She told of their break into and subsequent escape from Gringotts. Finally she told them of the Battle of Hogwarts, of how she and Ron had destroyed Helga Hufflepuff’s cup and how the Diadem had been consumed by the fiendfyre. She told of Snapes death and bringing down Fenrir Greyback. Finally she spoke about seeing Harrys body lying, limp in Hagrid’s arm’s and how utterly helpless she had felt in that moment.

After taking a breath to wipe her eyes, she spoke of Neville killing Nagini and fighting Bellatrix with Ginny and Luna just before Molly killed her. At last she spoke of Harry and Voldemorts final duel and Harrys victory.

“And that’s what I haven’t told you” she finished rather lamely.

There was silence for a long time after Hermione had finished her story. Ron was holding Hermione’s hand so hard his fingers had turned white. Harry on the other hand felt surprisingly numb. He’d never heard it all laid out like that before, it sounded like some giant epic fantasy story. Full of Heroes and Villains hell there was even a Dragon. Only it wasn’t a story, it was Harry’s life and it hadn’t been exciting or thrilling like a fantasy should be, it had been scary and bloody and horrible. It was funny thought Harry, when you listened to a story full of adventure and fighting, it could sound all amazing and exciting in your head. But if you ever tried to live that life you’d soon discover it was anything but.

Mr Granger had stood up at some point during Hemione’s retelling of the war, he was staring off into space a look on his face that was almost completely impossible to read.

“So, you’ve been lying to us since you were fifteen” he said in an emotionless voice.

“Yes” Hermione said quietly looking down at her feet.

“I understand” Mr Granger said turning to look at her.

Four heads whipped round to face the Granger patriarch. Hermione and Mrs Granger wearing the exact same look of surprise, their eyebrows almost blending with their hairline.

“You do?” Hermione said, a note of hope creeping into her voice.

“Yes, you were scared that your mother and I would of taken you away from your friends if we’d learnt of the political climate in your world and you thought if we did that you wouldn’t of been able to protect yourself from these criminals” Mr Granger said sounding very sure of himself now.

“Well, yes that’s how its started Dad, but…” Hermione began, but was quickly interrupted.

“But Hermione, you have to understand that what you did was naïve, reckless and quite frankly stupid. You put yourself in dangerous and impossible situations, apparently risking your life and those of your friends. You blindly jumped into situations without any real knowledge of what you were doing or the consequences of your actions. A war is no place for a seventeen year old girl!” Mr Granger had started shouting now. “That is not to mention how you ripped your very existence from our heads! Your mother hasn’t slept a wink since you so graciously returned our memories. How dare you violate our minds, without even considering what we would want!”

Harry went to step in and try to control the situation, but before he could move more than an inch he felt Ron’s hand tighten around his wrist. “Don’t mate, this is one she’s got to finish herself”, the red head murmured into his ear, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze before letting go.

“And what would you want me to do Dad?” Hermione shouted, standing up from the sofa. Her body almost vibrating with suppressed rage.

“I would of wanted you to come to us!” Mr Granger bellowed, spittle flying everywhere and his face going such a deep shade of beetroot, even Uncle Vernon would have been impressed. “We could of helped you, protected you, you silly girl. THAT’S OUR JOB!!!!”

Hermione stared at her farther for a second, not a sound could be heard from either Granger, the room entirely still. 

Then to Harry’s utter amazement, a high peel of laughter escaped Hermione’s mouth. It was an oddly jarring sound, completely devoid of humour. Harry was briefly reminded of Bellatrix’s mad cackles. It was a thought he pushed away very quickly.

“You still have no idea do you!” Hermione laughed in her father’s astonished face. “You think you could have protected me? You think you could have protected me from people who hold more power in the palm of their hand than the atom bomb? You don’t even know what real magic can do! The most you’ve ever seen are the few parlor tricks I did in my first week home before I wiped your memories!”

“If you’d only warned us!” Mr Granger shouted back, his face looked almost panicked now, it was quite obvious he’d never seen his daughter quite this angry. If Harry was honest neither had he.

“If you’d told us what to expect we could of prepared ourselves. You could of put up some defenses and we could of looked after you” Mr Granger roared.

“Looked after me!” Hermione screeched. “Looked after me! I was the one looking after you!” at this Hermione whipped out her wand, pointing it directly at her own head before pulling it away and throwing what looked like a silver liquid at the glass conservatory doors.

It took Harry a moment to figure out what Hermione had done. But as the large French Doors started to shimmer and swirl he realised with horror that Hermione was somehow using the glass as a form of flat-screen Pensieve.

As the five figures watched on in amazement images started flashing in front of their eyes. Slowly at first but gradually gaining speed until they only had enough time for the image to sink in before they were moving onto the next.

_A giant three headed dog snapped out at them, followed by cold rotting hands curling out from under a shifting black robe. Harry watched as Lupin transformed before him once more, bones lengthening, breaking, skin ripping. Then a huge scaled wing and the snapping jaws of a giant dragon closing only feet before them. Next came the Department of Mysteries. They watched as curses flew. They saw Ron get attacked by the brains, they’re tentacles wrapping around his arms and head. They stood transfixed as that god awful curse of Dolahov’s constricted around Hermione’s throat and they bore witness as Sirius fell through that dammed arch, a smile on his face but his eyes hauntingly empty. They saw the battle on the astronomy tower and the powerful curses flying this way and that. Greyback ripped at Bill Weasley’s face and arms with claw like hands before the image shifted to the lifeless body of Dumbledor falling past the window and breaking on the courtyard, blood and brains spilling out over the cobblestones. _

Harry wanted to pull his eyes away from the glass, to look anywhere else, knowing that the images to come would only get worse. Yet he couldn’t, his eyes were glued to the doors as if seeing the images again proved to him that they had happened, that they were more than the nightmares that flooded his head at night.

He was right. The scenes only got more graphic, more painful.

_Next came the night of the Polyjuice potion, they watched the fight through Hermione’s eyes, she had been close enough to see Snape curse George’s ear off, close enough to see the blood as it spurted through the twins fingers making his tan jacket shine slick and scarlet. Now Nagini pushed her way out of the mouth of Bethilda Bagshott, the skin of the old woman’s corps cracking and peeling away. Then on the floor of Malfoy Manor, Belatrix Lestrange straddling Hermione’s lap, wand in one hand and knife in the other. The insane women ripping and pulling at Hermione’s skin, biting and cutting until she drew blood. Throwing the Cruciatus Curse at her exposed skin every few seconds. They watch as Bellatrix leans over Hermione carving the hateful curse irrevocably into the teen girl’s arm, ‘Mudblood’. Now they are under Hogwarts. In the cold, damp tunnels of the Chamber of Secrets. A small golden cup sat in front of them. But it was all wrong, it morphed and pulsed. A ghastly, spine-chilling scream echoed in the deepest parts of their minds. Then they are in the middle of the battle watching Colin Creevey fly through the air to land with a sickening crack. That is followed by a long line of corpses stretching out on the floor of the great hall, Fred’s face as clear as day two bodies down. The last image is of Voldemort standing over Harry’s own limp body his blood red eyes full of an insane joy as he laughed a terrible hollow laugh at the massacre he has caused._

Harry was trembleing from head to toe by the time the glass shimmered, shifting back to a swirling silver mist. Ron shot up, managing to stumble to the kitchen before he throwing up all over the red terracotta tiles.

Hermione reached out her wand, sweeping the memories of the worst moments of her life back up and replacing them in her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a dead sounding voice. “I didn’t know they’d be that real, I wasn’t thinking” Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, her eyes begging them to forgive her.

“You could of given a guy some warning Mione” Ron said from the kitchen door way. “I love you, but I didn’t need to see that again”.

Harry looked at his friend and offered her a weak smile “Ditto” he said, unable to come up with anything better.

“WHAT WAS THAT?” came the horse, overly loud voice of Mrs Granger. The trio whipped around, drawing their wands as one. They had forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Mum!” Hermione said in surprise remembering her parents and the whole reason for the nightmarish display they had all just witnessed.

“Those were my memories,” she explained. “They were all the memories I have of seeing dark or dangerous magic, that’s what I was trying to protect you from.” Hermione looked at her Mum with such a look of pleading it made Harry want to sob.

“You have seen and fought all of that?” Mrs Granger said, fixing a wide-eyed stare on her only child.

“I had to, if I hadn’t the Death Eaters would still of found and killed me… and they wouldn’t of stopped there. They would of kept on killing until they had wiped out or enslaved everyone else, include the both of you.” Hermione replied looking down at her shoes and biting her bottom lip.

The next thing any of them knew Mrs Granger had crossed the living room and pulled her daughter into the fiercest hug Harry had ever seen.

After a second she stepped back and looked straight into Hermione’s glittering eyes. “I am so proud of you, do you hear me.” She gave Hermione a little shake “So proud”.

“Well Dad” Hermione said after a short pause, looking up at Mr Granger, a defiant set to her jaw.

Mr Granger took a step forwards out of the corner he had been leaning against since the end of the strange memory movie. He was so pale his lips were slightly blue and he was shaking almost as much as Harry was.

“I hate that you went through all of that Hermione. I hate that I couldn’t protect you, and I hate that you thought your only course of action was to change our memories. Even if it was.”

He held up a hand to stop any interruptions.

“You lost some of my trust, when I realized what you had done… I am not going to lie, it scared me, it scared me that someone could just lift a stick and change who I was and the fact that that someone was my own daughter that was the scariest part of all.” He looked past Hermione at the French windows for a second before he looked directly back into his daughter’s eyes. “So I cannot say you haven’t lost some trust. But you have most definitely not lost my respect. To have been able to face the things you have, to have made the decisions you have had to. Those are incredible achievements and I am more proud of you than I ever thought possible… Maybe we can work on that trust again? Now that we are back and we know who our daughter really is?” By the time he had finished this he was standing in front of Hermione with his hands clasped firmly around her shoulders.

A bright warm smile lit up behind Hermione’s eyes, as tears started falling down her face once more. “I’d like that Dad. Thank You”. She rushed forwards to give Mr Granger a tight hug before stepping back with a smile.

* * *

Mr and Mrs Granger had many Questions after that. They wanted to know what had happened after the war, if they really were truly safe and what some of they more terrifying images they had seen in the glass of their conservatory doors had been.

Harry, Ron and Hermione attempted to answer all they asked. Explaining what they could and offering the best suggestions they were able to, to those they could not.

Mrs Granger soon went to make some tea, stepping over Ron’s small pile of sick on the kitchen floor. She headed towards the sink picking up a cloth to clean up the mess when Ron jumped to his feet.

“Here, let me” he said. Waving his wand in a short curve he neatly vanished the offending mass.

“I’m really sorry about that Mrs Granger” Ron said looking at Hermione’s mother in extreme embarrassment.

“From what I’ve just seen, your reaction was quite understandable my dear boy” she said, eyeing his wand with an odd expression.

“I must admit I’m amazed after everything you all saw, all those horrible things… I can’t quite understand why any of you would still want to use magic at all” She carried on, still staring at the wand held in Ron’s hand.

“Magic isn’t all terrible Mrs Granger” Harry said looking up at the small woman from his seat. “On the whole it’s actually really quite beautiful”.

“I’m sure it is Harry, but when you know it can do all that as well.” Mrs Granger still did not look convinced.

“Maybe it would be best if we showed you” Hermione chipped in. “Do you mind?”

After only a seconds pause Mrs Granger shook her head, indicating for her to go on.

At this the young witch lifted her wand, pointing it at one of the stained glass Tiffany lamps in the corner. She muttered something under his breath and soon five people watched as the lamp started to shift, the leaf like patterns pulled themselves away from the glass as they transformed into real plant leaves. The lamp plant grew until it filled the entirety of the room’s corner. Small pale pink and blue buds opened to reveal delicate glass like flowers every few inches along the sinuous stems. And then, as if someone had plugged it into the mains, the plant began to glow, a soft warm light that filled the room.

Another flick of Hermione’s wrist and the lamp was back to its original form. No one would have known anything strange, or beautiful had ever happened to it.

Next Ron stood up and raising his wand produced several small blue birds that flew around his head twice before vanishing in little puffs of smoke. His eyes lingered on Hermione during the conjuring, a small smile playing at his lips. Next Harry stood quickly searching his mind for a spell that would show how wonderful magic could be.

They continued in this manner for a couple of minutes, each taking a turn to perform a charm or transfigure something in the room into a pretty or often comical object.

Finally, Harry produced his giant stag patronus, it galloped around the room once before it was joined by Ron’s Terrier and Hermione’s Otter. The room filled with an overpowering sense of joy as the three glimmering specters played with each other, their very presence acting as a magnifying glass for all the positive emotions that made them. The Patronas’ faded slowly, leaving ghostly after images burnt into Harry’s retina.

Mr and Mrs Granger stared at the spot they had vanished, their eyes gleaming brightly in the July sunlight. “I…” Mrs Granger started “I’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful… Yes, well.”

The small woman looked directly at her daughter “Hermione, you truly are so amazing. I don’t know where this gift came from, but I am so glad you received it.”

“Quite” Mr Granger added taking a shaky breath in before continuing. “Now, time is getting on and you are expected at Ron’s. Go on with you, but Hermione, come back soon love, wont you?”

“Of course Dad” Hermione replied running up to give her parents a final hug. They made their good byes and headed towards the front door.

“Stop!” Ron said, making Harry jump, he wasn’t sure he could cope with any more surprises today.

“There’s something I need to say” Ron continued, looking determinedly back at the Grangers.

“There’s something Hermione still hasn’t told you about. Something about last year.”

“Ron, please you don’t have to” Hermione said, laying her hand on his arm.

“Yeah Mione, I kinda do” he replied giving her a small shrug before continuing.

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that me and Hermione have become a thing. I mean the way she said hi at the ‘arrowport’ was pretty damn obvious wasn’t it.” Ron gave Mr and Mrs Granger a look that suggested they’d be daft not to have figured it out.

“Anyway” He said, taking a deep breath. “You need to know that I let her down. When we were hunting the Horcruxes. We’d been at it for weeks and we weren’t getting anywhere, we were hardly eating and that bloody locket was driving us all crazy. Voldemort had taken over and his followers were picking off anyone that opposed him one, by one. I didn’t know if my family were alive or safe and was getting desperate. We had an argument and I left. I regretted it the second I’d gone and I tried to get back to them, I really did, but I couldn’t find them. I was scared and stupid and I put them both in danger. I’m sorry, I’m sorry because I know I don’t deserve Hermione’s forgiveness or yours, but I do love her and I’ll bloody well fight tooth and nail to keep her safe. So you can think what you like of it and of me, but now you know and you can do with it what you will”.

Ron finished his outburst standing squarely in front of Mr Granger, his chin jutted forwards and his eyes bulging ever so slightly.

Mr Granger took this all in without so much as blinking, his face completely blank.

“You found her again didn’t you?” he said, his face still utterly devoid of expression. “You went back and fought through all those horrible things?”

“Well, yeah” Ron replied, deflating slightly.

“It takes a brave man to make right his mistakes Ron, and an even braver one to own those mistakes in front of a stranger. A man like that would be the kind I would be proud to welcome into the family.” At this Mr Grangers face softened, a wide smile splitting his cheeks in half. “Not that I think I would have any choice that is, It is quite clear that my daughter is very capable of making her own decisions. And quite rightly too I might add.” This last he said to Hermione, who was looking at Ron with an expression of mingled surprise and adoration.

Outside on the street the three looked around at each other, Harry couldn’t quite believe how much had happened since they had entered the Grangers home that morning. The day was almost over, eaten away by the long conversations and reconciliations that had taken place. Harry was exhausted, and he couldn’t imagine how Hermione felt.

It was almost time for dinner and the Burrow was surly a hive activity by now, as Molly Weasley bossed and berated whom ever was available into helping her with whatever gastronomic meal she was preparing. As Harry turned on the spot, apperating back to the Burrow, he was quite convinced that this month couldn’t get any more stressful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like this chapter... sorry it's starting a little dark lol. 
> 
> The song Ode To Potter is real its by the Switchblade Kittens and you should definitely look it up... its a blast.


	3. A letter from the Ministry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry receives a letter. Thoughts start to shift and Dean needs a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones a long one, hope you like it... Please send Dean your love he makes me cry.

Three days after Hermione had arrived home, Harry was sitting at the Weasley’s kitchen table. A large, sweet mug of tea in front of him and the promising scent of fried sausages wafting over from the arga, where Mrs Weasley stood making breakfast. 

Harry hadn’t slept well; once again plagued by nightmares of lost friends. He was trying desperately to wake himself up before Mrs Weasley found a job she needed doing, or worse noticed the state he was in and tried to ask him what the matter was. Harry didn’t think he could bare the look that would cross her face if he told her the truth.

He wasn’t the only person at the table. It had become a common sight to see many of the Burrows guests drag themselves to the kitchen early of a morning, all in search of strong caffeine and hot food. None of them ever asked about the dark circles under each other’s eyes or the slight shake of someone’s hand as they bought their first cup to their lips. They didn’t need to ask; after all they knew what answers they would receive.

Neville snoozed across from him, his head drooping close to the mouth of his mug. Ginny, and Luna sat next to him, both shearing that day’s Quibbler. Ginny gave Neville a poke, making him to jolt awake with a start, nearly spilling his tea. Hermione was curled up on the faded old armchair that sat in the corner. Her nose berried in a book on thermal conditioning charms, Crookshanks in her lap, purring softly. Ron was on Harry’s left his feet on the table as he scanned yesterday’s Prophet for the Quidditch scores.

Soon Mrs Weasley came bustling over. Floating in front of her large trays of bacon, fried eggs, sausages and a saucepan of baked beans. The rest of the former DA helped with the preparation of other meals, but Mrs Weasley insisted that breakfast was her domain alone. Harry thought it was probably her way of feeling like life was normal. She and the whole Weasley family were coping very well with Fred’s death. But that didn’t stop Harry from seeing Mrs Weasley eyes start to water before she began chopping the onions for dinner. Nor from noticing that Ginny spent more time on her broom, circling high over the Burrow’s roof, than she did on the ground.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a great clattering and banging as a whole parliament of owls flew in through the kitchen window. Suddenly there were feathers flying, birds hooting and several people crying out in shock.

Hermione had to physically bat away a large grey bird that was attempting to land on her head, presumably mistaking her bushy brown hair for a nest. Crookshanks jumped at it hissing and arching his back before leaving in search of a calmer place to knap.

Harry recognised them immediately as the breed used for official Ministry communications. He looked over his fried eggs at the regal bird that sat in front of him with a slight feeling of dread. What in the world would cause the Ministry to contact everyone at the Burrow individually? Harry untied the scroll proffered to him. Turning over the parchment, Harry broke the bronze coloured seal and began to read.

** _WITNESS SUMMONS._ **

** **

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_You are informed that under M.O.M. regulation 22b (of the Wizengamot Court and Council act of 1702), that trials of national significance will commence on the 5thAugust 1998._

_The trials in question: The Wizarding Community of the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland against the Followers of Lord Voldemort (Death Eaters) and those who acted knowingly and willingly with a foresaid parties. _

_As you are believed to have relevant information pertaining to one or more of the accused during the hostilities of 1997 to 1998 (becoming known as the Second Wizarding War), you are being summoned to bear witness at one or more of the trials._

_You are required to give witness at the individual trials of;_

_Miss Delores Umbridge – Trial commencing 5/08/98 at 10am._

_Antonin Dolahov – Trial commencing 11/08/98 at 1:30pm_

_Mr Lucius Malfoy – Trial commencing 15/08/98 at 9:15am_

_Mrs Narcissa Malfoy – Trial commencing 22/08/98 at 10:am_

_Mr Draco Malfoy – Trial commencing 26/08/98 at 9am_

_The trials of other well known Death Eaters; Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Fenrir Greyback and Stanley Shunpike will also be held during the month of August. If you have any information pertaining to any of these individuals and wish to give evidence at their trials, please contact Nancy Littlewauld at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Wizengamot Executive Branch._

_You will be expected to arrive outside Courtroom 10 half an hour before the start of each trial, unless you have been informed differently in later correspondence. Please keep this in mind when traveling._

_Yours,_

_Curtis Colmbright _

_Head of Magical Law Enforcement._

_Wizengamot Bench Member_

_Ministry of Magic._

The room was silent as everyone read their letters.

Harry stared at the parchment. So they were about to begin. Harry had known that the trials would start soon, but he had been doing his best to avoid thinking about them. The idea that he would have to sit in that cold cave of a court and talk about the events of the war, some of his most traumatic experiences, probably multiple times was terrifying. Not to mention that Harry would be forced to face people who had been trying to torture and kill him, only two months ago.

The silence stretched on as each person around the room started to comprehend what the Ministry was asking of them.

It was Ron who broke the silence. “Well, Merlin’s saggy damp scrotum”

Ginny and Neville both started sniggering, Mrs Weasley was not similarly impressed, giving Ron a swot around the ear.

“Ronald Billius Weasley!” Mrs Weasley scolded “I have told you before, if you keep using that language in this house I shall scourgify your tongue!”

However much Mrs Weasley under appreciated Ron’s choice of words, they did break the oppressive quiet that had briefly consumed the kitchen.

“I think Ron has quite the turn of phrase actually Mrs Weasley… I can introduce you to a poetic publisher if you’d like Ron, I’m sure he’d be very interested.” Luna remarked, offering him a small smile.

“Er thanks Luna, but I think I’ll be alright for now.” Ron replied with obvious confusion.

“Well I think it’s about time the trials started” Hermione said “The Ministry really needs to get a move on or else half the Death Eaters will have been held without sentence for longer than the legal limit”

“Come on ‘Mione what’s going to happen if they are? Its not like the Ministry’s going to let them all go, then ask them all to be back in a weeks time for their trials is it!” Ron said.

“No your right Ron. But the Death Eaters families could start claiming imprisonment compensation. Which would hold up court proceedings even further. Not to mention that the Ministry can’t afford to be paying out claims for every one arrested since the war.” 

Harry stopped paying attention to the conversation as Hermione and Ron started bickering. He was still trying to come to terms with what he’d have to do. He wasn’t really sure what a witness did apart from say that he saw someone do something. He didn’t think that would be enough to convict someone to Azkaban and he said as much interrupting Ron’s rather colourful description of what the families could do with their claims.

Hermione looked at him with that slightly exasperated look of hers, like he hadn’t read the books for a piece of homework.

“Well yes Harry, you do have to tell them what you’ve seen the accused do. The wizarding system is a little different though, witnesses are also required to submit memories of the events for the Wizengamot to look through and give their own opinions and advise to the bench.”

“You mean I have to tell these people if I think the accused is guilty or not?” Harry asked, more than a little alarmed that he may have to be responsible for other people’s fates, even if they were criminals.

“That’s the gist of it yes, it’s supposed to help the bench make their decision. I still think we should be taking more from the Muggle system. Not having a randomly selected jury strikes me as a tad elitist, but I’ve yet to convince Kingsley.” Hermione sighed.

“Stan Shunpike though! He was obviously imperiused. I mean come on Hermione, the guy’s a bus conductor.” Harry couldn’t believe anyone would seriously think Stan believed in blood supremacy.

“Forget Shunpike, he’s obviously gunna be let off” Ron said. “What about the Malfoy’s they have a tendency slime their way out of most things.”

“You can bet Lucius is already spilling every secret in his gut just for the chance to not get kissed” Neville said with a sour expression.

“Na Nev, the Ministry’s stopped using the kiss remember? Gunna be fazing the Dementors out completely by Christmas.” Ron replied.

“Well whatever he says, Lucius isn’t going to be getting out of jail this time” Ginny said looking angry. “Not after serving as Voldemort’s personal house keeper and dungeon master for the last year” She protectively put her arm around Luna’s shoulder at this.

“He’s not the only Malfoy who should be behind bars though is he?” Neville says a frown crossing his face. “None of them are exactly innocent.”

“I don’t know if that’s entirely fair Neville,” Luna said making everyone look at her in bewilderment. “I can’t speak for Narcissa or Lucius. But Draco was only young when the war started.”

“We were all young when the war started Luna” Harry said heatedly. “Doesn’t mean we all became Death Eaters and let murderers into a school full of children.”

Luna gave Harry a sad smile. “You lead children on a rescue mission into the Ministry the year before Harry. You didn’t ask us to come, but we were there. That put us all in danger, yet none of us blame you because you thought you needed to save your godfather. You didn’t have a choice. Draco had to open that cabinet and let Bellatrix and the rest of them through, if he hadn’t Voldemort would have killed him and his parents. Didn’t you see how ill Draco looked all of that year; he was almost grey by Easter. I don’t think he had any more choice than you did, he may have had less.”

Harry sat staring at Luna a little dumfounded, he’d never really thought of it like that before. Had Draco really had a choice? Would Harry of really fought to beat Voldemort if his family were held hostage? An image of a scared shaking Draco appeared in his head.

“Oh come off it Luna!” Ron said “Malfoy was a dick all through school, he probably leapt at the chance to be just like his precious Daddy. Get branded by that madman and become an even bigger arse than he was before.”

“You might be right Ron, but I don’t think he thought He Who Must Not Be Named was as amazing as he’d expected after actually meeting him. Besides many people are bullies in school, that doesn’t mean they deserve to be imprisoned for acts they did out of fear, or to protect themselves.”

“I’m not sure I entirely agree with you Luna” Hermione cut in, obviously seeing Ron’s hackles starting to rise. “But I do agree he should be tried for the majority of his crimes as a child as most of them were committed whilst under age.”

Harry listened to the conversation as it continued to develop. It soon moved off the topic of the Malfoy’s and the trials, onto more mundane subjects. Harry however kept quiet throughout the remainder of breakfast. Cool grey eyes, full of fear and self-doubt taking his thoughts down to those dark places where he spent so much of his time these days.

* * *

The doors shut on the lift before the cramped mettle box zoomed off backwards and up towards the Ministry atrium.

“Should of got life the cow,” Ron said.

It was the last day of Umbridge’s trial. She’d got twenty-five years in Azkaban with chance of parole after eighteen.

“I completely agree Ron, such an odious woman” Hermione replied. “Still I had a little word with Kingsley on our way out of the court room. Apparently Greyback’s trial should finish tomorrow, he’s got life obviously. Anyway Kingsley hinted that the only cell able to hold him was the one right opposite Umbridge’s.

“Brilliant!” Ron crowed. “It’ll be the centaurs all over again.”

“I think it’ll be a lot worse for her than that Ron. Greyback won’t move cell for the full moon after all.” A rather scary gleam had appeared in Hermione’s eyes at this.

“Your absolutely terrifying. I’ve told you that, right?” Ron replied fixing his girlfriend with a stare that was half fear half awe.

In all honesty Harry couldn’t find it within him to find any humour in the situation, he’d been in the stand four out of the six days Umbridge had been on trial and was absolutely exhausted. Four days of watching, analysing and explaining his own memories to a group of strangers had taken a lot of his energy. Matters hadn’t been helped by the number of Wizengemot Bench Members who had been unconvinced that one of their own could have done so much damage even before the war, they had still seemed dubious even after seeing the numerous accounts of Umbridge torturing students in her short tenure at Hogwarts. Harry suspected that the Benchers who had sided with the toad were in fact more scared of what she would do them if they didn’t, Umbridge had held a lot of power and discovered a lot of secrets over the last year after all.

There was a quite ‘bing’ and a cool voice announced “Ministry Atrium. Exit here for floo network, canteen, wand assessment centre and greater London.

The doors slid open and chaos exploded in.

Lights flashed, bright and cold. Human bodies jostled Harry, crowding in on him.

“Mr Potta! Mr Potta, whotch ya fink of the sentencin’?”

“Mr Potter! Did she deserve such a light sentence?”

“Harry, blue robes at court? Is this a new trend we should watch for?”

Reporters from every newspaper in the wizarding world seemed to be trying to get their exclusive with Harry at the same time. It had been like this since the start of the trials but today was even worse, one unlucky wizard in a maroon deerstalker was pushed so hard from behind he fell head first onto the lifts floor, he wasn’t even given the chance to stand up as three other journalists climbed on top of him in order to ask their questions.

Harry felt his chest tightening; he and his friends were quite literally trapped in this very small box. The lift wobbled as eight reporters tried to step in, cramming Harry right back into the corner. The lift surly couldn’t hold this many people Harry thought. The cable would snap under the strain, come to think of it Harry wasn’t even sure the ministry lifts had cables, were he and his friends suspended above some unknowable drop by nothing more than a charm of some sort. Could the enchantment hold out with so many people trying its limits? There were too many people jostling Harry. He didn’t have enough space, he couldn’t breath and his vision was starting to go hazy. He couldn’t see, his whole body felt ridged, like he’d been put in a full body bind and no matter how he tried to move to get himself to safety to find his way out he couldn’t.

“DEPULSO!!!” a bluish white wave of energy shot through the compartment pushing the reporters out with an unnaturally strong force. The lift doors shut and Hermione quickly lowered her wand, darting forwards to press the number three button on the wall.

“Harry mate, you all right?” Ron asked. “Take a deep breath, in… and… out… that’s it.” Ron held Harry’s shoulders firmly calmly looking into Harry’s eyes. This was by no means the first time Ron had helped Harry through a panic attack. Attacks like Harry’s had become a common occurrence at The Burrow in the past few months and the occupants of the Weasley family home were all used to helping one another through them.

“Bloody Paps, how we gonna find a way round them Mione? That ways a fuckin’ slaughter waiting to happen.” Ron glanced over at Hermione scribbling on a piece of parchment.

“I’ve sent us to The Muggle Liaison floor, we’ll have to ask Kingsley to connect your dad’s office to the floo network temporarily.” Hermione finished writing her note, folded it into a delicate origami bird and tapped it with her wand. The bird lifted both its tiny wings and flue up into the air and straight out of the lift doors as they opened onto Ministry corridor.

Ron helped Harry out of the lift and into the surprisingly run of the mill corridor. Whilst most of the Ministry Harry had seen before held some kind of magical or at least eccentric feel, this corridor seamed nothing more than a rather nice, if slightly old-fashioned office block. Ron led Harry and Hermione down the stretch of parquet flooring and cream walls until they reached a large wooden door with a plaque on indicating that this was Mr Weasley’s new office.

“Bloody hell, I’ve not seen Dad’s new office yet. About time they moved him out of that fucking cupboard.” Ron knocked on the mahogany wood and pushed it open at Mr Weasley’s summons.

“Ron? Oh hello Harry, Hermione, what are you three doing here? Is something the matter”? Mr Weasley looked momentarily alarmed; people were still very quick to fear the worst so soon after the war. Harry couldn’t blame them really, who could. After all they had all spent the last year in constant fear that disaster was only moments away.

“We’re ok Mr Weasley” Hermione said. “We just couldn’t get past the reporters when we left Umbridge’s trial. I’ve just messaged Kingsley to ask if we can Floo to the Burrow from here.”

“Oh I see, well I’m sure we won’t have to wait long for a reply. How did the sentencing go?” The Weasley patriarch inquired, his eyes turning serious.

“Bloody awfully if you ask me” Ron said a little too loudly making Harry drop the rubber duck Mr Weasley had on his desk. Clasping his hands together quickly to stop them shaking, Harry took a step back from the surface so as not risk breaking anything.

“Sorry mate” Ron said, “ you ok? You still look like shit.”

“Ronald please” Mr Weasley said sharply before turning to Harry with a small frown. “ He’s right Harry, you are looking a little under the weather. Can I get you anything?”

“No I’m er… ok, I… I’m just going to get some air. Give me a minuet” Harry said, quickly turning on his heels and making his way back out of the office.

Once the door closed behind Harry he walked over to a little alcove set back on the other side of the hallway. Sitting down in front of the fake window looking out on a non-existent garden, Harry cracked it open, allowing the enchanted breeze to roll over him.

Conjuring a glass and filling it with a quick ‘Aquamenti’ Harry took a few calming sips of water, Harry closed his eyes leaning his head back against the wall behind him.

That was when he heard the laughing coming from the end of the corridor he was facing away from. A second later two wizards in the robes of ministry guards walked past him.

“He spent the whole night crying, nightmare made him piss himself didn’t think I noticed the worm.” The one guard spat in obvious disgust.

“Finally realised his precious mummy and daddy aren’t going to get him out of this one, got enough on their own plaits” the other said with just as little sympathy.

“Honestly its fucking pitiful, it’s not like he’s gonna get the kiss.”

“Shame about it really the whole family should be sucked dry if you ask me, there aren’t even any Dementors in Azkaban anymore, it’ll practically be a holiday, fucking Death Eater scum.”

“Still a fucking hell whole though isn’t it,” the guard grinned. “That little rat will go mad in a week, he’ll be a gibbering wreck before he turns nineteen.”

“Draco Malfoy, Lord of the gibbering pissers!”

The guards laughed cruelly as they continued around the corner, not noticing Harry in his alcove.

Harry stared after the two wizards in horror; they had been talking about Malfoy. Harry couldn’t quite get his head together; they had been talking about Draco Malfoy an eighteen-year-old human like he was some kind of filthy animal. Malfoy was an arse and a bigot but he was still human!

Harry was suddenly furious; he hadn’t fought a war against a madman only for people to still be treated like cattle, that was what HE had done.

Not only was the conversation Harry had just heard vile on any moral level, but Harry wasn’t sure it even had a basis in truth. Sure there were people out there who deserved nothing but derision and contempt. People like Greyback or Bellatrix, hell even Lucius, but Malfoy wasn’t even close to that level of evil. Sure he’d done his fair share of damage. After all the idiot had almost killed Ron, but mostly Malfoy had been nothing more than a pawn, and a weak one at that. He wasn’t twisted and he certainly wasn’t a killer, Harry had seen that on the astronomy tower.

“Harry” Hermione called, peeking through Mr Weasley’s office door. “The floo’s been connected, come on before Molly starts serving dinner.”

Harry got up, heading back into the office.

Once inside the three friends and Mr Weasley, who was finishing work in half an hour anyway, flooed back to The Burrow just in time for Mrs Weasley’s dinner.

Harry spent the meal lost in thought, unaware of the chaotic storm that was The Burrow at dinnertime, as it whipped around him. He didn’t even notice when Ron’s hair turned bright blue after he had a sip of pumpkin juice Ginny had laced with a Wizard Wheezes potion. Nor did he notice the subsequent fight that broke out right in front of him. In fact Harry Potter was so lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the announcement of an impromptu Quidditch game and only came round in time for Mrs Weasley to pull him into the Kitchen to help wash up.

* * *

It was well past two thirty in the morning when Ron fell asleep. Harry and Dean had been playing two against one with him for the past two hours, and had still lost three games.

Since Seamus was in Ireland visiting his family for a few days, Harry and Ron had stayed up with Dean. It hadn’t been openly discussed, but no one was quite willing to leave the dark skinned, West Ham supporter alone just yet.

Before the Death Eaters had captured Dean and taken him to the manor he’d been on the run for nearly three months. Before leaving, Dean had placed all the protection he could around his family, in the hope that with him out of the way they would simply be overlooked. His precautions had been in vain.

It had been Bellatrix’s work in the end. There had been evidence of the cruciatus curse as well as a sickening amount of mundane torture. Truly the worst of it though had been the spelled rope holding them to their chairs. Trapping the young wizards family as that mad witch had burned their house around them. Dean hadn’t even known until he and Seamus had apparated onto the scene the morning after the final battle. He hadn’t spoken for two weeks after, unable to process what had happened.

Over the intervening weeks since the end of the war Dean had started to communicate more and he’d even started taking part in the regular Quidditch matches that took place, but he was quieter than he’d ever been. He rarely stayed in a room that held more than a few people, but was equally anxious when left alone. The first few times Seamus had tried to leave him, even simply to go to the toilet, Dean would have a complete melt down.

Harry picked up Ron’s bishop. Moving three places over, he took a pawn that he’d placed down himself only thirty seconds before.

“Just because your using Ron’s pieces doesn’t mean your going to win you know” Dean said, raising his eyebrow at Harry.

Snorting in response Harry replied “No, but I doubt I’ll loos any pieces for a few moves.”

“Touché” Dean quipped back.

After a minutes silence, in which the two friends took turns moving their respective pieces, Dean turned to Harry “You alright Harry? You’ve seemed a bit off all night.”

Typical Dean, Harry thought, the guy had just lost his whole family, spent half a year on the run and been imprisoned in Voldemort’s base of operations, yet he still found it in him to notice when others were struggling with something.

It took a long time for Harry to respond, not sure how to explain his thoughts.

“Did you know Malfoy’s being held at The Ministry?”

Dean frowned slightly, obviously confused by this change in conversation “Yes” he replied shortly.

“Merlin, sorry I know you probably don’t want to talk about this” Harry said quickly, sounding tired.

Dean took a deep breath, visibly relaxing his shoulders.

“No, your knotted up nine ways to Sunday. Go on, spill.” His friend pushed.

“Ok” Harry pressed on. “When I was at the Ministry today I heard these guards coming off shift. They were talking about Malfoy. Apparently he’s not doing well in custardy. I know he should be there. He needs to answer for his crimes but honestly Dean the way they were talking about him, it was inhumane.”

“It’s not your job to care anymore Harry. You know that right? You’ve done your bit.” Dean said seriously.

“Believe me I know” Harry grumpily moved his queen out of the way of Deans oncoming rook. “Malfoy picked the wrong side and needs to pay for what’s happened. He hurt people, almost killed Ron, then there’s the night on the astronomy tower. He was a prat all through school and then went and joined a bloody death cult, I shouldn’t even care what happens to him.” Harry sighed, running his hands over his face in frustration. “But the way those guards were talking about him… no one should be treated like that, it’s not what we fought for!” Harry realised that he’d stood up at some point. He quickly sat down, trying not to wake Ron in the process.

Dean looked at Harry for a while; his face far more serious than the boy Harry had grown up with.

“Draco Malfoy has been a bigoted twat since the day we started Hogwarts.” Dean said flatly.

Harry just stared at his friend unsure how to respond.

“But” Dean continued, before glancing into the unlit hearth. “I don’t think he wanted to be a Death Eater.”

“Do you really believe that? He insulted you just as much as he did Hermione!” Harry retorted.

“Yes he did” Dean nodded still looking into the fireplace. “And I think he believed everything he said growing up. But you saw him at the Manor, whatever notions Malfoy had about Voldemort’s rise to power, I think they were far from the reality he ended up with. I mean think about it Harry, we all grew up with people telling us what was good and what was bad and we believed them. Malfoy only did the same in the end. He believed his parents, what they said and what they taught. I doubt he even had a reason to question any of it until he actually met Voldemort himself. By then I don’t think Malfoy had a choice but to follow him, Voldemort would have killed his parents if he hadn’t done what was asked.” Dean glanced at the chessboard quickly taking one of Harry’s knights before looking away once again.

“So yeah I get it. Malfoy was a wanker, doesn’t mean he deserves to be treated like shit.”

Harry took a second to digest all this. So at least he wasn’t going mad. Malfoy didn’t deserve the brush he was being tarred with. He still deserved to pay for his crimes though… right? Knowing Malfoy had been forced into the decisions he’d made was tragic, but he’d still made them after all. He had done awful things, made stupid decisions, hurt people and changed lives for the worse. Harry shouldn’t care what was happening to him now; it wasn’t even Harry’s responsibility anyway. As Dean had said he’d done his bit.

“You know Harry at the manor Malfoy was just as scared as the rest of us. Maybe even more so, at least we had a locked door between us and the madness.” Dean’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked at Harry. “He was actually kind to us, in a way… he was always the one who bought us food, I got the impression he was bringing more than he should of if I’m honest. Never cursed any of us, which is more than I can say for the rest of them. Even cast a warming charm on Ollivander once” Deans face screwed up in momentary revulsion. “Voldemort had spent the afternoon _questioning _him, he could barley breath when he got back. Don’t think Malfoy actually knew he’d done it until after.”

Dean looked away from Harry, into the shadows. “Um I think I want to sleep now, would you mind if we called it a night?”

“Oh yeah, of course, Er can I leave Ron here? He’ll be a bugger if we try to wake him.” Harry replied.

Dean nodded that he could and Harry got up to leave.

Just as Harry reached the door Dean called him back. When he turned around Harry was struck by the image of Dean. He wasn’t looking at Harry but hidden in shadows with only a couple of candles lighting his face, his eyes sparkled with a brightness that Harry had never before seen in his friend. Dean Thomas looked in that moment both more broken and more certain than Harry had known it was possible to be.

“I’d have done it too Harry. If I could have kept them safe, I’d have done it” Dean didn’t look over, he didn’t so much as blink. He just stared into the shadows, his voice like flint and his eyes burning out of his skull.

* * *

That night Harry dreamed of a scared boy, trapped in his own home with a madman. A dark and terrible figure who tortured him, forced him to torcher others, threatened his family and his life. He dreamed of a boy who would do anything to protect his family but couldn’t in the end kill, a broken boy, covered in blood on a bathroom floor.

Harry woke the next morning certain of one thing. He could not stand by and let Draco Malfoy suffer for the mistakes he’d made and the decisions he’d made to protect those he’d loved.

Harry would defend Draco Malfoy in front of the Wizengamot at his trial.


	4. A Baby, Some Banana Bread and a Needed Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to see Teddy and Andromeda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so sorry it's been ages since I updated. please don't hate me. Also I've actually uploaded this chapter once but then I decided I hated it so I took it down and had writers block for far too long.
> 
> Anyway now I'm stuck in my house because of the international plague so I finally have both the time, health and inspiration to get back to it. Hope you enjoy, if you like it please click a like it makes me very excited and then makes my lazy arse motivated.  
Ok shut up now... please enjoy,
> 
> yours,  
P&Ux

Harry appeared on the street with the faintest of popping sounds; a year on the run really had honed his apperating skills.

In front of him, on the opposite side of the road was a modest looking red-bricked house. It looked like nothing more than any average ex-council house, sitting on a normal muggle estate.

None of the estate’s residence would expect that behind the hawthorn hedge and lace curtains lived the last full blooded descendent of one of the oldest and most powerful pureblood houses in the world. They would be even more dismayed to learn that with her lived the infant child of a werewolf and a woman who could change her appearance at will. The strangest of things it seemed, were often found in the most likely places.

It was horribly poetic to Harry that Teddy would end up orphaned on a muggle estate at the end of the second war, just as he himself had been at the end of the first.

Harry however was going to make damn sure that life turned out better for Teddy than it had for him. Not that he had to work that much, Teddy was already in a home that loved and wanted him. All Harry had to do was keep that world safe for him.

Becoming a Godfather was a daunting prospect for Harry. He knew next to nothing about children and knew even less about how to help them through life. He was barely eighteen for Circe’s sake. Still he was determined to be there for Teddy in any way he could.

Harry walked across the road and through the small gate next to the black rubbish bins. The gentle brush of the house’s wards as they recognised him the only sign that anyone other than muggles lived at this unassuming home.

As Harry approached the front door it was flung wide to reveal a tired but smiling Andromeda Tonks. Alerted by the wards. She had obviously just come straight from the kitchen as she was still wearing a flour-covered apron.

“Harry!” she called, rushing out to give him a huge hug and covering him in flour. “It’s so good to see you dear, come on in. I’m just making a banana bread”

“You really should be more careful Mrs Tonks, just because the war’s over doesn’t mean it’s entirely safe yet. They still haven’t caught all the Death Eaters.”

“Oh pft Harry” she replied, waving her hand as she made her way back into the house. “My wards are strong enough to tell if your really you or not.” Still Harry thought it was always better to be on the safe side.

Mrs Tonks lived in the most muggle house Harry had ever seen a witch or wizard own. Pale Cream walls and French Blue curtains were certainly a better taste than the Dursley’s choices of Magnolia and Fuchsia, but apart from the moving pictures on the walls Harry thought even Aunt Petunia would of approved of the simple lines and elegant features.

In the corner of the room, on a play rug decorated with miniature teddy bears, laid Teddy Lupin.

“Hello Teddy” Harry cooed as he gently trotted over to his tiny godson. Reaching out to him Harry gently tickled Teddy’s belly.

Turning his giant brown eyes onto Harry, Teddy gurgled and spat little bubbles at him as he grabbed at his fingers. As Teddy looked up at Harry, his eyes lightened shifting from the dark brown that resembled his grandmothers to that of Harry’s own bottle green. There was a moment though, as the young Lupin’s eyes lightened from chocolate to emerald that pinned Harry to the spot. For the briefest of instants Remus Lupin’s soft hazel gaze was staring up at him, seeming to see too much and question everything. The next second he was gone and Teddy was grinning wonkily up with that special love that only infants really have. Harry took a shaky breath still astounded that a child who looked different every twenty seconds could, so often, look so much like his dead parents.

Harry had made an effort to see Teddy and Andromeda once a week since the end of the war, he wanted to be a part of Teddy’s life, wanted Teddy to recognise him and grow up feeling loved and supported. Even with his regular visits however Harry still couldn’t quite believe how anything so small and fragile could exist. Teddy brought out a fierce protective streak in Harry that he’d never really acknowledged before. He had quickly realised that he would go to any lengths for this small and delicate person.

“Cup of tea dear?” Andromeda asked from the Kitchen.

“Yes please Mrs Tonks” Harry replied, picking Teddy up and making his way through into the Kitchen.

“Andy is fine dear. Please, I don’t like to repeat myself.” Andromeda said with a smile, reminding him of her request from their last meeting. She gently patted his cheek as she made her way around the Kitchen island with the kettle, filling it with water before placing it on the hob.

Harry smiled apologetically, wiggling his fingers at Teddy. He still felt very awkward referring to adults so informally. Other adults, he corrected himself. The Dursley’s had been very strict about how he talked to adults growing up, first names were for equals and friends, he was neither, if he had to speak at all he should at least be respectful. Uncle Vernon had always been very clear on that.

“How’s Teddy doing this week?” he asked smiling at the bundle of joy in his arms.

“Oh the usual you know, mostly eating and sleeping. We started a new book this week, didn’t we Teddy?” Andromeda said picking up a large purple book with a picture of a dragon on the front and wiggling it in front of Teddy’s face.

“Is that a muggle book?” Harry asked noticing the picture didn’t move.

“It is. It’s not very accurate I’m afraid, but wizards don’t tend to make children’s books about creatures they mostly consider to be highly dangerous.” Andromeda said with a mock sigh.

“Why not?” Harry laughed “Muggles make kids books about Lions all the time.”

“Your right of course, but Lions aren’t usually capable of killing eight men from forty feet away by burping. Wings and fire tend to make people a little more antsy.” Chuckling Andromeda put the book back down and reached over for Teddy. “Right come hear you great lump! Nanny Andy needs to give you some lunch.”

As Andromeda took Teddy out of Harry’s hands an enchanted baby bottle filled itself with formula and floated itself over to the pair. When it got close Teddy started waving at it, desperately trying to make a grab for it.

Humming softly Andromeda took the bottle from the air, tested it on her wrist and started feeding Teddy. As soon as the bottle was within his grasp Teddy latched onto it with a single-minded determination.

“So dear, what have you been up to this week? Any exciting news for me?” Andromeda asked.

“I’ve spent the whole week stuck in the trial rooms,” Harry answered running his fingers through his hair. “Umbridge got put away yesterday.”

“Good riddance if you ask me. She called me in for questioning when my Ted went on the run. My skin was crawling just being in the same room as her.”

A copy of the Prophet on the kitchen table caught Harry’s eye. Picking it up he read _‘Malfoy trials to start this Saturday, Bribes wont work this time Lucy.”_

Looking up Harry found Andromeda eyeing him, a small frown between her fine brows “Are you going to their trials?” she asked softly.

Sighing he pushed the paper away. “Yes, all three actually. Not exactly the way I’d like to spend my August.”

“Well keep a seat for me at Cissy’s” Andromeda whispered gazing down at Teddy with a sad smile.

“You’re going to Narcissa’s trial?” Harry asked a little shocked that she would even want to see her sister after all that had happened between them.

“I’ve been called as a character witness, although what help I’ll be I don’t know. I haven’t so much as spoken to her since I was eighteen.”

“What will you say?” Harry asked, unable to suppress his curiosity.

“Oh the truth I should imagine” Andy replied, placing Teddy into a high chair next to the table and retreating over to the kettle.

“And that is?” Harry probed. He knew it was presumptuous of him to ask but he needed to know if he was alone in wanting to give a Malfoy a second chance or if he was just finally going off his rocker.

Andromeda sighed as she pored two cups of tea before meeting Harry’s eyes, her jaw setting in a hard line.

“She is still my sister Harry. She made the wrong choices; she holds awful beliefs and no doubt has done some dreadful things. But if your asking me if I want her to go to Azkaban? No I can’t find it in myself to want that… I’ve lost too much family to this war already. I won’t loose any more, even if that family wants nothing to do with me.”

Harry stared at her for a moment more than a little impressed that she could find it in herself to still wish her sister well after all this time.

“I’m going to defend Draco at his trial” Harry blurted out, more than a little shocked that he’d said it as he hadn’t even known he’d been thinking about it.

Judging by the wide-eyed expression on Andromeda’s face he was not the only one. After a moment’s silence she tread softly over to the table carrying both cups of tea. Placing them down carefully she struck Harry with a piercing gaze “I see, may I ask why?” she asked. The mirth and joy that often lit her eyes entirely absent. Instead replaced by a wary curiosity.

Harry took a deep breath, opened his mouth and explained about what he’d seen the day before in the Ministry, about his conversation with Dean and how Draco had refused to identify him at the Manor. It all tumbled out quickly; after all he still wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about everything. Was he even right to be raising these points at all? “I mean he’s a twat that hurt people, nearly killed Katie and Ron. He’s bigoted and stuck up but in the end he just seemed scared and confused and all he was doing was trying to survive and keep those he loved safe. Can any of us say we wouldn’t of done the same?”

Harry frowned at Andromeda daring her to disagree. Andromeda stared back for what seemed like minutes as she took in all he’d said.

After an age of silent contemplation she took a breath and appeared to shake herself, pulling together all her thoughts before addressing Harry once again.

“Harry Potter you are far too kind and by far too stupid for your own good. You always seem to look for the light in whomever your path crosses, whether that be for your benefit or not. It’s reckless and dangerous and quite frankly far too admirable in my book.”

“Still” she said with a small smile “You have yet to lead us too far astray… If you believe my nephew is worth giving a second chance then he probably is.”

Harry let out a huge breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He grinned a little shakily at Andromeda, slightly shocked at how easy it had been to convince her it was the right thing to do. “It’s not so much that I think he’s worth giving a second chance, more that if we don’t give him one he’ll never have the chance to make himself worth one at all.” 

* * *

An hour later, after lots of games with Teddy and maybe one too many slices of banana bread Harry said his goodbyes, headed out of the oddly muggle looking house and back across the road.

As he turned on the spot apperating away from the small council house Harry couldn’t help but think about Andromeda. How easy it had become to talk to her about his worries. She was as friendly and straight talking as Tonks had always been but she also managed to understand and support Harry in a way that couldn’t help but remind him of Sirius. Funny Harry thought, how he always seemed to become so close with descendants of the Blacks, especially considering that families normal views.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, so just an FYI I'm writing the next chapter at the moment and hoping to get it up before the end of the week. It's going to be a seriously long one though so prepare for a camp out. thats all XX


	5. The Trial Of Draco Malfoy - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trial Opens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I decided this chapter is going to be huge so I've split it up. This is part one Part two will be up when I've actually finished it. The second half is still looking to be quite big but I thought here was a good place to break it.
> 
> TW - grafficish descriptions of emaciation and prisoner mistreatment, kind of. Please if its upsetting you skip the first paragraph and put your health first.
> 
> Also as a side note some people weren't pleased with the way Harry was thinking at the end of the last chapter. I'd like to highlight that this is how Harry is thinking as the story is from his perspective. Harry has a tendency to see the best in people and be a saviour thats kind of one of the building blocks of his character. Whatever you think of my writing, I'm doing this for fun and to destress from the plague thats happening, especially as I'm high risk. I don't need any more negativity right now please remember that when commenting. if your genuinely enjoying it though and are being nice I'm sorry for making you read this aggy little message. love to you all XX
> 
> P&U

The boy who was escorted into the courtroom was so changed from that of the Draco Malfoy Harry had gone to school with that he seemed more likely to have been another person altogether. Malfoy’s skin had a waxy yellow tinge to it and was pulled tight across his bones. His eyes were sunken pits of coal, dark and glassy. He was so thin his cheek and wrist bones seemed to poke through his skin and his obviously small-sized prison robe hung loosely on his shoulders. The most shocking transformation in the once good-looking boy however was his hair, or rather lack thereof. Someone during his incarceration had shaved off Malfoy’s trademark platinum locks. It was obvious that it had been done roughly and with little consideration to his safety. There were a few patches that had been missed altogether where several fine hairs stuck out at odd angles and few scabs were healing over from where the shaving charm had caught the scalp. Moreover Malfoy had four purple marks on one side of his neck and cuts to his lip and on his cheek. It seemed to Harry more like an Inferi had been bought in for questioning than the once proud Slytherin.

Once again Harry was filled with the anger he had felt outside Mr Weasley’s office at hearing those guards spewing bile at Malfoy’s imprisoned state. Harry had seen others come from the holding cells in rough and dishevelled conditions. Both he and Hermione had been in some rather heated arguments with Kingsley about it already. Still even those like Umbridge and Lucius had seemed less decimated and maltreated than Malfoy was. His entire demeanour was hunched over and broken.

“What happened to him?” Ron whispered from beside Harry, shocked.

“A guard or two taken justice into their own hands no doubt” Hermione replied her mouth twisted in distaste. “I’ve already talked to Kingsley about prisoner treatment, but unless the inmate makes a formal complaint it’s being entirely over looked.”

At that moment Percy Weasley called for order. As the room quietened down Kingsley Shacklebolt organised his papers and rose to his feet, drawing the attention the court with his presence.

“The Court is called to assemble on today the twenty-sixth of August to bring to trial one Draco Lucius Malfoy. Presiding, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic. Curtis Colmbright, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Percy Weasley, Senior Under Secretary to the Minister. Mildred Marydew acting as Court Scrivener. Taking the position of Prosecution Avicultus Rapwinder and in that of Defence, Nyxia Greengrass.” Kingsley sat on the high bench next to Percy and a rather thin man with a large forehead and very bushy eyebrows.

“Prosecution if you would make clear your opening statements?” Kingsley said to the tall man with a black widows peak and a nose so hooked it could of rivalled Snape’s.

Avicultus Rapwinder unfolded himself from his seat on the lowest row of benches before turning to face the Wizengamot and those called in as witnesses. A thin curved smile formed on his lips before he addressed the court. “Minister, High Mugwumps, members of the Gamot.” He said in a thin sticky voice that was quiet but still audible from the backbenches where Harry and his friends were sitting. It had the effect of making the listener lean forward so as to not miss what was being said. Suddenly Harry was reminded of a rather large spider pulling at its web, inching a trapped fly closer and closer to its demise. Rapwinder Harry decided was not a man who would play any kind of fair game if a dirty one were available.

“It is the intention of the Prosecution to argue that the accused, one Draco Malfoy, has, over the course of the past years, knowingly and wilfully aided in the rise and regime of He Who Must Not Be Named. The accused stands to be charged with the crimes of performing multiple restricted acts of magic including those of the Unforgivables, Cruciatus and Imperius Of performing and participating in acts of hate speech and brutality. Of the imprisonment of the persons of Olivander, Thomas, Lovegood and… others” at this Rapwinder paused with a smirk. By others it was clear he was referring to the Goblin Griphook. Clearly Rapwinder did not consider the internment of Goblins more than a unlawful inconvenience.

“He is also charged” the spider like attorney continued. Glaring now, directly at Malfoy, his arms folded over his narrow chest. “Of harbouring and abetting the Azkaban escapees from both the ninety-six and ninety-seven breakouts, the Werewolf Fenrir Greyback and You Know Who himself. However his final and most reprehensible crime is that of bearing The Dark Mark, marking him incontrovertibly as a member of the self named terror group The Death Eaters.”

Rapwinder whirled to face the court, dark arched brows raising as he peered down his nose at those assembled for the trial. “The Prosecution will be pressing for the highest of charges available at this time. Life imprisonment, with no parole or visitation rights.”

“The Court thanks the Prosecution for its address and calls the Defence to make it’s stand” Kingsley said.

Rapwinder bowed his head, a sly smile curling his lips awhen he passed Nyxia Greengrass as she took the floor.

“Defence, how do you plea?” Kingsley asked Nyxia as the blond faced the court.

“The Defence” Nyxia replied as she raising her chin to the Gamot “Pleads Guilty on all charges your honour’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH I know I'm sorry it was too good to not do. I will put the next one up as soon as I can. Please stay safe in this time of total madness. love P&U


End file.
